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AMBUSH 

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CHARLES  KING 


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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

Microsoft  Corporation 


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Foes   in 
Ambush 

BY 

CAPTAIN   CHARLES 

KING 

^fjL^mi^ 

M 

Van       u^j«# 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP, 

Eleven  East  Sixteenth  Street, 

Publishers 
New  York 

Copyright,  1892, 

BY 

Charles  Kino. 


Painted  by  J.  B.  Liwncott  Company.  Philadelphia. 


X* 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 


i. 

The  sun  was  just  going  down,  a  hissing  globe  of 
fire  and  torment.  Already  the  lower  limb  was  in  con- 
tact with  the  jagged  backbone  of  the  mountain  chain 
that  rimmed  the  desert  with  purple  and  gold.  Out 
on  the  barren,  hard-baked  flat  in  front  of  the  corral, 
just  where  it  had  been  unhitched  when  the  paymaster 
and  his  safe  were  dumped  soon  after  dawn,  a  weather- 
beaten  ambulance  was  throwing  unbroken  a  mile-long 
shadow  towards  the  distant  Christobal.  The  gate- 
way to  the  east  through  the  Santa  Maria,  sharply 
notched  in  the  gleaming  range,  stood  a  day's  march 
away, — a  day's  march  now  only  made  by  night,  for 
this  was  Arizona,  and  from  the  rising  of  the  sun  to 
the  going  down  of  the  same  anywhere  south  of  that 
curdling  mud-bath,  the  Gila,  the  only  human  beings 
impervious  to  the  fierceness  of  its  rays  were  the 
Apaches.  "  And  they,"  growled  the  paymaster,  as  he 
petulantly  snapped  the  lock  of  his  little  safe,  "  they're 
no  more  human  than  so  many  hyenas." 

A  big  man  physically  was  the  custodian  and  &V 

5 

2136675 


6  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

burser  of  government  greenbacks, — so  big  that,  as  he 
stepped  forth  through  the  aperture  in  the  hot  adobe 
wall,  he  ducked  his  head  to  avert  unwilling  contact 
with  its  upper  edge.  Green-glass  goggles,  a  broad- 
biimmed  straw  hat,  a  pongee  shirt,  loose  trousers  of 
brown  linen,  and  dust-colored  canvas  shoes  made  up 
the  outer  man  of  a  personality  as  distinctly  unmilitary 
as  it  was  ponderous.  Slow  and  labored  in  movement, 
the  major  was  correspondingly  sluggish  in  speech. 
He  sauntered  out  into  the  glare  of  the  evening  sun- 
shine and  became  slowly  conscious  of  a  desire  to  swear 
at  what  he  saw  :  that,  though  in  a  minute  or  two  the 
day-god  would  "douse  his  glim"  behind  the  black 
horizon,  no  preparation  whatever  had  been  made  for 
a  start  There  stood  the  ambulance,  eveiy  bolt  and 
link  and  tire  hot  as  a  stove-lid,  but  not  a  mule  in  sight. 
Turning  to  his  left,  he  strolled  along  towards  a  gap  in 
the  adobe  wall,  and  entered  the  dusty  interior  of  the 
corral.  One  of  the  four  quadrupeds  drowsing  under  the 
brush  shelter  languidly  turned  an  inquiring  eye  and 
interrogative  ear  in  his  direction,  and  conveyed,  after 
the  manner  of  the  mule,  a  suggestion  as  to  supper.  A 
Mexican  boy  sprawling  in  the  shade  of  a  bale  of 
government  hay,  and  clad  in  cotton  shirt  and  trousers 
well-nigh  as  brown  as  the  skin  that  peeped  through  oc- 
casional gaps,  glanced  up  at  him  with  languid  interest 
an  instant,  and  then  resumed  the  more  agreeable  con- 


FOES  JN  AMBUSH.  7 

templation  of  the  writhings  of  an  impaled  tarantula. 
Under  another  section*  of  the  shed  two  placid  little 
burros  were  dreamily  blinking  at  vacancy,  their  griz- 
zled fronts  expressive  of  that  ineffable  peace  found 
only  in  the  faces  of  saints  and  donkeys.  In  the  mid- 
dle of  the  enclosure  a  rude  windlass  coiled  with  rope 
stood  stretching  forth  a  decrepit  lever-arm.  The 
whippletree,  dangling  from  the  end  over  the  beaten 
circular  track,  seemed  cracked  with  heat  and  age. 
The  stout  rope  that  stretched  tautly  from  the  coil 
passed  over  a  wooden  wheel,  and  disappeared  through 
a  broad-framed  aperture  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth. 
Close  at  hand  in  the  shade  of  a  brush-covered  "  leanto" 
hung  three  or  four  huge  oUas,  earthen  water-jars, 
swathed  in  gunny  sack  and  blanket.  Beyond  them, 
warped  out  of  all  possibility  of  future  usefulness,  stood 
what  had  once  been  the  running  gear  of  a  California 
buck-board.  Behind  it  dangled  from  dusty  pegs  por- 
tions of  leather  harness,  which  all  the  neatVfoot  oil  of 
the  military  pharmacopoeia  could  never  again  restore  to 
softness  or  pliability.  A  newer  edition  of  the  same 
class  of  vehicle  was  covered  by  a  canvas  "  'paulin."  A 
huge  stack  of  barley  bags  was  piled  at  the  far  end  of 
the  corral,  guarded  from  depredation  (quadrupedal)  by 
a  barrier  of  wooden  slats,  mostly  down,  and  by  a 
tattered  biped,  very  sound  asleep. 

"Where's  the  sergeant?"  queried  the  paymaster, 


8  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

slowly,  addressing  no  one  in  particular,  but  looking 
plaintively  around  him. 

Still  leaning  a  brown  chin  on  a  nearly  black  hand, 
and  stirring  up  his  spider  with  the  forked  stick  he 
held  in  the  other  paw,  the  boy  simply  tilted  his  head 
towards  the  dark  opening  under  the  farther  end  of  the 
shed,  an  aperture  that  seemed  to  lead  to  nothing  but 
blackness  beyond. 

"What's  he  doing?" 

"  No  sa-a-abe,"  drawled  the  boy,  never  lifting  his 
handsome  eyes  from  the  joys  before  him. 

"  Why  hasn't  he  harnessed  up  ?" 

A  shrug  of  the  shoulders  was  the  only  reply. 

"Hey?" 

"  No  sa-a-abe,"  slowly  as  before. 

"  What's  your  name  ?" 

"Jos6." 

"Well,  here,  Jose",  you  go  and  tell  him  I  want 
him." 

The  boy  slowly  pulled  himself  together  and  found 
his  feet ;  started  reluctantly  to  obey ;  glanced  back  at 
his  captive,  now  scuttling  off  for  freedom ;  turned 
again,  scotched  him  with  his  forked  stick,  and  then 
with  a  vicious  "  huh  !"  drove  the  struggling  Araneid 
into  the  sandy  soil.  This  done,  he  lounged  off  towards 
the  dark  corner  in  the  wall  of  the  ranch  and  dove  out 
of  sight. 


~&? 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  9 

Presently  there  slowly  issued  from  this  recess  a 
sturdy  form  in  dusty  blue  blouse,  the  sleeves  of  which 
were  decorated  with  chevrons  in  far-faded  yellow. 
Under  the  shabby  slouch  hat  a  round,  sun-blistered, 
freckled  face,  bristling  with  a  week-old  beard,  peered 
forth  at  the  staff  official  with  an  expression  half  of 
languid  tolerance,  half  of  mild  irritation.  In  most 
perfunctory  fashion  the  soldier  just  touched  the  hat- 
rim  with  his  forefinger,  then  dropped  the  hand  into 
a  convenient  pocket.  It  was  plain  that  he  felt  but 
faint  respect  for  the  staff  rank  and  station  of  the  man 
in  goggles  and  authority. 

"  Sergeant  Feeny,  I  thought  I  told  you  I  wanted 
everything  ready  to  start  at  sunset." 

"You  did,  sir,  and  then  you  undid  it,"  was  the 
prompt  and  sturdy  reply. 

The  paymaster  stood  irresolute.  Through  the  shad- 
ing spectacles  of  green  his  eyes  seemed  devoid  of  any 
expression.  His  attitude  remained  unchanged,  thumbs 
in  the  low-cut  pockets  of  his  wide-flapping  trousers, 
shoulders  meek  and  drooping. 

"W-e-11,"  he  finally  drawled,  "you  understood  I 
wanted  to  get  on  to  Camp  Stoneman  by  sunrise,  didn't 
you  ?     Didn't  my  clerk,  Mr.  Dawes,  tell  you  ?" 

"  He  did,  yes,  sir,  and  you  don't  want  to  get  there 
no  more  than  I  do,  major.  But  I  told  you  flat-footed 
if  you  let  Donovan  and  those  other  men  go  back  on 


10  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

the  trail  they'd  find  some  excuse  to  stop  at  Ceralvo's, 
and,  damn  'em,  they've  done  it." 

"  Don't  you  s'pose  they'll  be  along  presently  ?" 
"  S'pose  ?"  and  the  sun-blistered  face  of  the  cavalry- 
man seemed  to  grow  a  shade  redder  as  he  echoed  al- 
most contemptuously  the  word  of  his  superior.  "  S'pose  ? 
Why,  major,  look  here  !"  And  the  short,  swart  trooper 
took  three  quick  strides,  then  pointed  through  the 
western  gap  in  the  adobe  wall  to  the  gilded  edge  of  the 
range  where  the  sun  had  just  slipped  from  view.  "  It's 
ten  mile  to  that  ridge,  it's  ten  minutes  since  I  got  the 
last  wig-wag  of  the  signal-flag  at  the  pass.  They 
hadn't  come  through  then.  What  chance  is  there  of 
their  getting  here  in  time  to  light  out  at  dark?  You 
did  tell  me  to  have  everything  ready  to  start,  and  then 
you  undid  it  by  sending  half  the  escort  back.  You've 
been  here  in  hell's  half-acre  three  days  and  I've  been 
here  three  years.  You've  never  been  through  Canon 
Diablo ;  I've  been  through  a  dozen  times  and  never 
yet  without  a  fight  or  a  mighty  good  chance  of  one. 
Now  you  may  think  it's  fun  to  run  your  head  into  an 
ambuscade,  but  I  don't.  You  can  get  'em  too  easy 
without  trying  here.  I'm  an  old  soldier,  major, 
and  too  free  spoken,  perhaps,  but  I  mean  no  dis- 
respect, only  I  wish  to  God  you'd  listen  to  me  next 
time." 

"  You  wouldn't  have  had  me  leave  those  women  in 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  11 

the  lurch  back  at  the  crossing,  would  you  ?"  queried  the 
paymaster,  half  apologetically. 

"  Why,  I  don't  believe  that  story  at  all,"  flatly  an- 
swered Feeny;  "it's  some  damned  plant  that  fellow 
Donovan's  springing  on  you, — a  mere  excuse  to  ride 
back  so  they  could  drink  and  gamble  with  those  thugs 
at  Ceralvo's.  They've  just  been  paid  off  and  had  no 
chance  for  any  fun  at  all  before  they  were  ordered  out 
on  this  escort  duty.  That  money's  been  burning  in 
their  pockets  now  for  three  whole  nights,  and  they  just 
can't  stand  it  so  long  as  a  drop  of  liquor's  to  be  had  by 
hard  riding.  No  soldier  is  happy  till  he's  dead  broke, 
major,  leastwise  none  I  ever  see." 

"What  makes  you  doubt  the  story, sergeant ?  It 
came  straight  enough." 

"  It  came  too  damned  straight,  sir ;  that's  just  the 
trouble.  It  came  straight  from  Chihuahua  Pete's 
monte  mill.  It's  only  a  hook  to  draw  'em  back,  and 
they  played  it  on  you  because  they  saw  you  were  new 
to  the  country  and  they  knew  I  was  asleep ;  and  now, 
unless  Lieutenant  Drummond  should  happen  in  with 
his  troop,  there's  no  help  for  it  but  to  wait  for  to- 
morrow night,  and  no  certainty  of  getting  away  then." 

"  Well,  if  Mr.  Drummond  were  here,  don't  you  sup- 
pose he'd  have  gone  or  sent  back  to  protect  those 
people?" 

"Oh,  he'd  have  gone,— certainly,— that's  his  busi- 


12  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

ness,  but  it  isn't  yours,  major.  You've  got  govern- 
ment money  there  enough  to  buy  up  every  rum-hole 
south  of  the  Gila.  You're  expected  to  pay  at  Stone- 
man,  Grant  and  Goodwin  and  Crittenden  and  Bowie> 
where  they  haven't  had  a  cent  since  last  Christmas 
and  here  it  is  the  middle  of  May.  You  ought  to 
have  pushed  through  with  all  speed,  so  none  of  these 
jay-hawkers  could  get  wind  of  your  going,  let  alone 
the  Apaches.  Every  hour  you  halt  is  clear  gain  to 
them,  and  here  you've  simply  got  to  stay  twenty-four 
hours  all  along  of  a  cock-and-bull  story  about  some 
stage-load  of  frightened  women  fifteen  miles  back  at 
Gila  Bend.  It's  a  plant,  major,  that's  what  I  be- 
lieve." 

Old  Plummer  kicked  the  toe  of  his  shoe  into  the 
sandy  soil  and  hung  a  reflective  head.  "  I  wish  you 
hadn't  shut  your  eyes,"  he  drawled  at  length. 

"  I  wouldn't,  sir,  if  I  hadn't  thought  you'd  keep 
yours  open.  You  slept  all  night,  sir,  you  and  Mr. 
Dawes,  while  I  rode  alongside  with  finger  on  trigger 
every  minute." 

Absorbed  in  their  gloomy  conversation,  neither  man 
noticed  that  the  wooden  shutter  in  the  adobe  wall  close 
at  hand  had  been  noiselessly  opened  from  within,  just 
au  inch  or  two.  Neither  knew,  neither  could  see  that 
behind  it,  in  the  gathering  darkness  of  the  short  sum- 
mer evening,  a  shadowy  form  was  crouching. 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  13 

"  Then  you  think  we  must  stay  here,  do  you  ¥' 
queried  the  paymaster. 

"  Think  ?  I  know  it.  Why,  the  range  ahead  is 
alive  with  Apaches,  and  we  can't  stand  'em  off  with 
only  half  a  dozen  men.  Your  clerk's  no  'count, 
major." 

Old  Plummer  stood  irresolute.  His  clerk,  a  con- 
sumptive and  broken-down  relative,  was  at  that  mo- 
ment lying  nerveless  on  a  rude  bunk  within  the  ranch, 
bemoaning  the  fate  that  had  impelled  him  to  seek  Ari- 
zona in  search  of  health.  He  was  indeed  of  little 
"'count,"  as  the  paymaster  well  knew.  After  a  mo- 
ment's painful  thought  the  words  rose  slowly  to  his 
lips. 

*  Well,  perhaps  you  know  best,  so  here  we  stay  till 
to-morrow  night,  or  at  least  until  they  get  back." 

One  could  almost  hear  the  whisper  in  the  deep  recess 
of  the  retaining  wall, — sibilant,  gasping.  Some  one 
crouching  still  farther  back  in  the  black  depths  of  the 
interior  did  hear. 

"  Santa  Maria  /" 

But  when  a  moment  later  the  proprietor  of  this  road- 
side ranch,  this  artificial  oasis  in  a  land  of  desolation, 
strolled  into  the  big  bare  room  where  half  a  dozen 
troopers  were  dozing  or  gambling,  it  was  with  an  air  of 
confidential  joviality  that  he  whispered  to  the  corporal 
in  charge, — 


14  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

"  Our  fren',  the  major,  lie  riffuse  me  sell  you  aguar- 
diente,— mescal ;  but  wait — to-night." 

"  Oh,  damn  it,  Moreno,  we'll  be  half-way  to  Stone- 
man  by  that  time,"  interrupted  the  trooper,  savagely. 
"  Who's  to  know  where  we  got  the  stuff?  We'll  make 
'em  believe  Donovan's  squad  brought  it  in  from  Ce- 
ralvo's.  Give  me  a  drink  now  anyhow,  you  infernal 
Greaser;  I'm  all  burnt  out  with  such  a  day  as  this. 
We've  got  to  start  the  moment  they  get  back,  and  there 
won't  be  any  time  then." 

"  Hush,  caballero ;  they  come  not  to-night.  You 
will  rest  here." 

"  Why,  how  in  blazes  do  you  know  ?" 

"  Softly  ! — I  know  not.  I  know  noting ;  yet,  mira  ! 
—I  know.  They  talk  long  in  the  corral, — the  major 
and  that  pig  of  a  sergeant ; — for  him  I  snap  my  fin- 
ger. Look  you  I"  And  Moreno  gave  a  flip  indicative 
of  combined  defiance  and  disdain. 

"  Don't  you  count  on  his  not  finding  out,  Moreno. 
It's  all  easy  enough  so  far  as  the  major's  concerned, 
but  that  blackguard  Feeny's  different,  I  tell  you.  He'd 
hear  the  gurgle  of  the  spigot  if  he  were  ten  miles 
across  the  Gila,  and  be  here  to  bust  things  before  you 
could  serve  out  a  gill,— damn  him  !  He's  been  keen 
enough  to  put  that  psalm-singing  Yankee  on  guard 
over  your  liquor.  How're  you  going  to  get  at  it,  any- 
how?" 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  15 

For  all  answer  the  Mexican  placed  the  forefinger 
of  his  left  hand  upon  his  lips  and  with  that  of  the 
right  hand  pointed  significantly  to  the  hard- beaten 
earthen  floor. 

"Ah — I  have  a  mine,"  he  whispered.  "You  will 
not  betray,  eh  ?     Shu-u  !     Hush  !     He  comes  now." 

The  gruff  voice  of  Sergeaut  Feeny  broke  up  the 
colloquy. 

"  Corporal  Murphy,  take  what  men  you  have  here 
and  groom  at  once.  Feed  and  water  too. — Moreno,  I 
want  supper  cooked  for  eight  in  thirty  minutes. — Drop 
those  cards  now,  you  men ;  you  should  have  been 
sleeping  as  I  told  you,  so  as  to  be  ready  for  work 
to-night." 

"  Shure  we  don't  go  to-night,  sergeant  ?" 

"  Who  says  that  ?"  demanded  Feeny,  quickly, 
whirling  upon  his  subordinates.  The  corporal  looked 
embarrassed  and  turned  to  Moreno  for  support. 
Moreno,  profoundly  calm,  was  as  profoundly  oblivious. 

"Moreno  there,"  began  Murphy,  finding  himself 
compelled  to  speak. 

"  I  ?"  gravely,  courteously  protested  the  Mexican, 
with  deprecatory  shrug  of  his  shoulders  and  upward 
lift  of  eyebrow.  "  I  ?  What  know  I  ?  I  do  but 
say  the  Corporal  Donovan  is  not  come.  How  know  I 
you  go  not  out  to-night  ?" 

"Neither  you  nor  the  likes  of  you  knows,"  was 


16  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

Feeny's  stern  retort.  "  TVe  go  when  we  will  and  no 
questions  asked.  As  for  you,  Murphy,  you  be  ready, 
and  it's  me  you'll  ask,  not  any  outsider,  when  we  go. 
I've  had  enough  to  swear  at  to-day  without  you  fellows 
playing  off  on  me.  Go  or  no  go— no  liquor,  mind 
you.  The  first  man  I  catch  drinking  I'll  tie  by  the 
thumbs  to  the  back  of  the  ambulance,  and  he'll  foot  it 
to  Stoneman." 

No  words  were  wasted  in  remonstrance  or  reply. 
These  were  indeed  "  the  days  of  the  empire"  in  Ari- 
zona,—days  soon  after  the  great  war  of  the  rebellion, 
when  men  drank  and  swore  and  fought  and  gam- 
bled in  the  rough  life  of  their  exile,  but  obeyed,  and 
obeyed  without  question,  the  officers  appointed  over 
them.  These  were  the  days  when  veteran  sergeants 
like  Feeny — men  who  had  served  under  St.  George 
Cooke  and  Sumner  and  Harney  on  the  wide  frontier 
before  the  war,  who  had  ridden  with  the  starry 
guidons  in  many  a  wild,  whirling  charge  under  Sheri- 
dan and  Merritt  and  Custer  in  the  valley  of  Virginia 
— held  almost  despotic  powers  among  the  troopers 
who  spent  that  enlistment  in  the  isolation  of  Arizona. 
Rare  were  the  cases  when  they  abused  their  privilege. 
Stern  was  their  rule,  rude  their  speech,  but  by  officers 
and  men  alike  they  were  trusted  and  respected.  As 
for  Feeny,  there  were  not  lacking  those  who  declared 
him  spoiled.     Twice  that  day  had  the  paymaster  been 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  17 

on  the  point  of  rebuking  his  apparent  indifference. 
Twice  Lad  he  withheld  his  censure,  knowing,  after  all, 
Feeny  to  be  in  the  right  and  himself  in  the  wrong. 
And  now  in  the  gathering  shades  of  night,  as  he  stood 
in  silence  watching  the  brisk  process  of  grooming,  and 
noted  how  thorough  and  business-like,  even  though 
sharp  aud  stern,  was  Feeny,  the  paymaster  was  wish- 
ing he  had  not  ventured  to  disregard  the  caution  of 
so  skilled  a  veteran. 

And  yet  the  paymaster,  having  a  human  heart  in 
his  breast,  had  been  sorely  tried,  for  the  appeal  that 
came  for  help  was  one  he  could  not  well  resist.  Pass- 
ing Ceralvo's  at  midnight  and  pushing  relentlessly 
ahead  instead  of  halting  there  as  the  men  had  hoped, 
the  party  was  challenged  in  the  Mexican  tongue. 

"  Que  viene  f 

To  which  unlooked-for  and  uncalled-for  demand 
the  leading  trooper,  scorning  Greaser  interference  in 
American  territory,  promptly  answered, — 

"Go to  hell!" 

All  the  same  he  heard  the  click  of  lock  and  was 
prompt  to  draw  his  own  Colt,  as  did  likewise  the 
little  squad  riding  ahead  of  the  creaking  ambulance. 
The  two  leaders  of  the  mules  whirled  instantly  about 
and  became  tangled  up  with  the  wheel  team,  and  the 
paymaster  was  pitched  out  of  a  dream  into  a  doubled- 
up  mass  on  the  opposite  seat.  To  his  startled  ques- 
b  2* 


18  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

tions  the  driver  could  only  make  reply  that  he  didn't 
know  what  was  the  matter;  the  sergeant  had  gone 
ahead  to  see.  Presently  Feeny  shouted  "  Forward  !" 
and  on  they  went  again,  and  not  until  Ceralvo's  was  a 
mile  behind  could  the  major  learn  the  cause  of  the 
detention.  "  Some  of  Ceralvo's  people/'  answered 
Feeny,  "  damn  their  impudence  !  They  thought  to 
stop  us  and  turn  us  in  there  by  stories  of  Indian  raids 
just  below  us, — three  prospectors  murdered  twenty- 
four  miles  this  side  of  the  Sonora  line.  Cochises's 
people  never  came  this  far  west  of  the  Chiricahua 
Kange.  It's  white  cut-throats  maybe,  and  we'll  need 
our  whole  command." 

And  yet  in  the  glaring  sunshine  of  that  May  morn- 
ing, after  they  had  unsaddled  at  Moreno's,  after  the 
sergeant,  wearied  with  the  vigils  of  two  successive 
nights,  had  gone  to  sleep  in  the  coolest  shade  he  could 
find,  there  came  riding  across  the  sun-baked,  cactus- 
dotted  plain  at  the  west  a  young  man  who  had  the 
features  of  the  American  and  the  grave,  courteous 
bearing  of  the  Mexican. 

"  My  name  is  Harvey,"  said  he.  "  My  sisters,  who 
have  been  in  San  Francisco  at  school,  are  with  me  on 
the  way  to  visit  our  parents  in  Tucson.  Father  was 
to  have  met  us  at  the  Bend  with  relays  of  mules.  We 
have  waited  forty -eight  hours  and  can  wait  no  longer. 
For  God's  sake  let  half  a  dozen  of  your  men  ride  out 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  19 

and  escort  them  down  here.  There  is  no  doubt  in  the 
world  the  Apaches  are  in  the  mountains  on  both  sides, 
and  I'm  trembling  for  fear  they've  already  found  our 
camp.  None  of  my  party  dared  make  the  ride,  so  I 
had  to  come." 

What  was  Plummer  to  do  ?  He  didn't  want  to  rouse 
the  sergeant.  This  wasn't  going  back  to  Ceralvo's, 
but  riding  northward  to  the  rescue  of  imperilled 
beauty.  He  simply  couldn't  refuse,  especially  when 
Donovan  and  others  were  eager  to  go.  From  Mr. 
Harvey  he  learned  that  his  father  had  married 
into  an  old  Spanish  Mexican  family  at  Havana, 
had  been  induced  by  them  to  take  charge  of  certain 
business  in  Matamoras,  and  that  long  afterwards  he 
had  removed  to  Guaymas  and  thence  to  Tucson.  The 
children  had  been  educated  at  San  Francisco,  and  the 
sisters,  now  seventeen  and  fifteen  years  of  age  respec- 
tively, were  soon  to  go  to  Cuba  to  visit  relatives  of 
their  mother,  but  were  determined  once  more  to  see 
the  quaint  old  home  at  Tucson  before  so  doing ;  hence 
this  journey  under  his  charge.  The  story  seemed 
straight  enough.  Plummer  had  never  yet  been  to 
Tucson,  but  at  Drum  Barracks  and  Wilmington  he 
had  often  heard  of  the  Harveys,  and  Donovan  swore 
he  knew  them  all  by  sight,  especially  the  old  man. 
The  matter  was  settled  before  Plummer  really  knew 
whether  to  take  the  responsibility  or  not,  and   the 


20  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

cavalry  corporal  with  five  men  rode  back  into  the 
fiery  heat  of  the  Arizona  day  and  was  miles  away 
towards  the  Gila  before  Feeny  awoke  to  a  realizing 
sense  of  what  had  happened.  Then  he  came  out  and 
blasphemed.  There  in  that  wretched  little  green  safe 
were  locked  up  thousands  enough  of  dollars  to  tempt 
all  the  outlawry  of  the  Occident  to  any  deed  of  des- 
peration that  might  lead  to  the  capture  of  the  booty, 
and  with  Donovan  and  his  party  away  Feeny  saw 
he  had  but  half  a  dozen  men  for  defence. 

At  his  interposition  the  major  had  at  least  done  one 
thing, — warned  Moreno  not  to  sell  a  drop  of  his  fiery 
mescal  to  any  one  of  the  men ;  and,  when  the  Mexican 
expressed  entire  willingness  to  acquiesce,  Feeny's  sus- 
picions were  redoubled,  and  he  picked  out  Trooper 
Latham,  a  New  Englander  whom  some  strange  and 
untoward  fate  had  led  into  the  ranks,  and  stationed 
him  in  the  bullet-scarred  bar-room  of  the  ranch,  with 
strict  orders  to  allow  not  a  drop  to  be  drawn  or  served 
to  any  one  without  the  sanction  of  Sergeant  Feeny 
or  his  superior  officer,  the  major.  Even  the  humili- 
ation of  this  proceeding  had  in  no  wise  disturbed 
Moreno's  suavity.  "  All  I  possess  is  at  your  feet,"  he 
had  said  to  the  major,  with  Castilian  grace  and  gravity ; 
"  take  or  withhold  it  as  you  will." 

"  Infernal  old  hypocrite  !"  swore  Feeny,  between  his 
strong,  set  teeth.     "  I  believe  he'd  like  nothing  better 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  21 

than  to  get  the  escort  drunk  and  turn  us  over  bag  and 
baggage  to  the  Morales  gang." 

Thrice  during  the  hot  afternoon  had  Feeny  scouted 
the  premises  and  striven  to  find  what  number  and 
manner  of  men  Moreno  might  have  in  concealment 
there.  Questioning  was  of  little  use.  Moreno  was 
ready  to  answer  to  anything,  and  was  never  known  to 
halt  at  a  lie.  Old  Miguel,  the  half-breed,  who  did 
odd  jobs  about  the  well  and  the  corral,  expressed  pro- 
found ignorance  both  of  the  situation  and  Feeny's 
English.  The  Mexican  boy  had  but  one  answer  to 
all  queries:  "No  sa-a-abe."  Other  occupants  there 
were,  but  these  even  Feeny's  sense  of  duty  could  not 
prompt  him  to  disturb.  Somewhere  in  the  depths  of 
the  domestic  portion  of  the  ranch,  where  the  brush  on 
the  flat  roof  was  piled  most  heavily  and  the  walla 
were  jealously  thick,  all  scouting-parties  or  escorts 
well  knew  that  Moreno's  wife  and  daughter  were 
hidden  from  prying  eyes,  and  rumor  had  it  that  often 
there  were  more  than  two  feminine  occupants;  that 
these  were  sometimes  joined  by  three  or  four  others, — 
wives  or  sweethearts  of  outlawed  men  who  rode  with 
Pasqual  Morales,  and  all  Arizona  knew  that  Pasqual 
Morales  had  little  more  Mexican  blood  in  his  veins 
than  had  Feeny  himself.  He  was  an  Americano,  a 
cursed  Gringo  for  whom  long  years  ago  the  sheriffs 
of  California  and  Nevada  had  chased  in  vain,  who 


22  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

had  sought  refuge  and  a  mate  in  Sonora,  and  whose 
swarthy  features  found  no  difficulty  in  masquerading 
under  a  Mexican  name  when  the  lauguage  of  love  had 
made  him  familiar  with  the  Mexican  tongue. 

Slow  to  action,  slow  of  speech  as  was  the  paymaster, 
he  was  not  slow  to  see  that  Sergeant  Feeny  was 
anxious  and  ill  at  ease,  and  if  a  veteran  trooper  whom 
his  captain  had  pronounced  the  coolest,  pluckiest, 
and  most  reliable  man  in  the  regiment,  could  be  so 
disturbed  over  the  indications,  it  was  high  time  to 
take  precaution.  What  was  the  threatened  dauger? 
Apaches?  They  would  never  assault  the  ranch  with 
its  guard  of  soldiers,  whatsoever  they  might  do  in  the 
caflons  in  the  range  beyond.  Outlaws  ?  They  had  not 
been  heard  of  for  months.  He  had  inquired  into  all 
this  at  Yuma,  at  the  stage  stations,  by  mail  of  the 
commanding  officers  at  Lowell  and  Bowie  and  Grant. 
Not  for  six  months  had  a  stage  been  "  held  up"  or  a 
buck-board  "jumped"  south  of  the  turbid  Gila.  True, 
there  was  rumor  of  riot  and  lawlessness  among  the 
miners  at  Castle  Dome  and  the  customary  shooting 
scrape  at  Ehrenberg  and  La  Paz,  but  these  were  river 
towns,  far  behind  him  now  as  he  looked  back  over 
the  desert  trail  and  aloft  into  the  star-studded,  cloud- 
less sky.  Nothing  could  be  more  placid,  nothing  less 
prophetic  of  peril  or  ambush  than  this  exquisite 
Bummer  night.    Somewhere  within  the  forbidden  re- 


FOES  TN  AMBUSH.  23 

gion  of  Moreno's  harem  a  guitar  was  beginning  to 
tinkle  softly.  That  was  all  very  well,  but  then  a 
woman's  voice,  anything  but  soft,  took  up  a  strange, 
monotonous  refrain.  Line  after  line,  verse  after  verse 
it  ran,  harsh,  changeless.  He  could  not  distinguish 
the  words, — he  did  not  wish  to ;  the  musio  was  bad 
enough  in  all  conscience,  whatsoever  it  might  become 
when  sung  by  youth  or  beauty.  As  it  fell  from  the 
lips  of  Sefiora  Moreno  the  air  was  a  succession  of 
vocal  nasal  disharmonies,  high-pitched,  strident,  nerve- 
wracking. 


m 


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*=*: 


2. 


sit 


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j^4^v-y-^   i,|i/(    E'^bltf   '    *    ^ 


v-t/- 


Unable  to  listen  after  the  third  repetition,  Plum- 
mer  slowly  retired  from  the  corral  and  once  more 
appeared  at  the  front,  just  in  time  for  a  sensation. 
Two  troopers,  two  of  the  men  who  had  ridden  back 
with  Donovan,  came  lurching  into  the  lighted  space 
before  the  main  entrance.  At  sight  of  the  paymaster 
one  of  them  stiffened  up  and  with  preternatural  grav- 
ity of  mien  executed  the  salute.  The  other,  with  an 
envelope  in  his  hand,  reeled  out  of  saddle,  failed  to 
catch  his  balance,  plunged  heavily  into  the  sand  and 
lay  there.  Corporal  Murphy  sprang  eagerly  forward, 
the  first  man  to  reach  him,  and  turned  the  prostrate 
trooper  over  on  his  back. 


24  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

"  "What's  the  matter  ?"  queried  Plummer.  "  Is  he 
sick?" 

*  Sick  is  it  ?"  was  the  quick  retort,  as  the  corporal 
sniffed  at  the  tainted  breath  of  the  sufferer.  "  Be  the 
powers  !  I  only  wish  I  had  half  his  disayse." 

And  then  came  Feeny,  glaring,  wrathful. 

"  Come  down  off  the  top  of  that  horse,  Mullan," 
he  ordered,  fiercely.  "How — how'd  ye  get  here? 
Which  way'd  ye  come  ?    Where's  the  rest  ?" 

With  the  ponderous  dignity  of  inebriety,  Mullan 
slowly  pointed  up  the  desert  under  the  spot  where  the 
pole-star  glowed  in  the  northern  skies. 

"  Sarsh'nt,"  he  hiccoughed,  "  we're — we're  too  late ; 
'Paches  got  there — first." 

"  Hwat !  hwat !"  thundered  Feeny.  "  D'ye  mean 
there  were  women, — that  it  wasn't  a  plant  ?" 

"Fack." 

"  Hware's  your  despatches,  you  drunken  lout  ?  How 
dare  you  dhrink  when  there  was  fight  ahead  ?  Hware's 
your  despatches?  and  may  heaven  blast  the  souls  of 
you  both !" 

"Here,  sergeant,"  said  Murphy,  wrenching  the 
soiled  envelope  from  the  loose  grasp  of  the  prostrate 
trooper. 

"  It's  to  you,  sir,"  said  Feeny,  with  one  glance  at 
the  sprawling  superscription.  "  In  God's  name  read 
and  let  us  know  what  devil's  work's  abroad  to-night." 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  25 

Even  Plumnier's  pudgy  fingers  trembled  as  he  tore 
open  the  dingy  packet.  Old  Moreno  came  forth  with 
a  light,  his  white  teeth  gleaming,  his  black  eyes  flash- 
ing from  one  to  another  of  the  group.  Holding  the 
pencilled  page  close  to  the  lantern,  the  paymaster  read 
aloud, — 

■  Camp  burned.  One  man  killed ;  others  scattered ; 
mules  and  buck-board  gone.  For  God's  sake  help  in 
the  pursuit.  Strike  for  Eaton  Pass.  The  Indians 
have  run  away  my  poor  sisters. 

"Edward  Harvey." 

The  major  dropped  the  paper,  fairly  stunned  with 
dismay.  Feeny  sprang  forward,  picked  it  up,  and 
eagerly  scrutinized  the  page.  Mullan,  standing  un- 
steadily at  the  head  of  his  wearied  and  dejected  horse, 
was  looking  on  with  glassy  eyes,  his  lips  vainly  striving 
to  frame  further  particulars.  Leaving  their  supper 
unfinished,  the  other  men  of  the  little  squad  had  come 
tumbling  out  into  the  summer  night.  No  one  paid 
other  heed  to  the  trooper  sprawling  in  the  sand.  Al- 
ready in  deep,  drunken  slumber,  he  was  breathing  ster- 
torously.  Feeny's  eyes  seemed  fastened  to  the  letter. 
Line  by  line,  word  by  word,  again  and  again  he  spelled 
it  through.  Suddenly  he  leaped  forward  and  clutched 
Mullan  at  the  throat,  shaking  him  violently. 

M  S 


26  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

"Answer  now.  Hware'd  you  get  your  liquor? 
Didn't  this  fellow  give  it  to  you  ?" 

"  On  my  honor — no,  sarsh'nt,  'pon  my  'on " 

"Oh,  to  hell  with  your  honor  and  you  with  it! 
Hware'd  you  get  it  if  it  wasn't  from  him?  Shure 
you've  not  been  near  Ceralvo's?" 

"No,  sarsh'nt,  no  Ceralvo's.  We  met  couple 
gen'l'men — perfec'  gen'l'men,  ranchers;  they  were  going 
after  the  Indians.  They  gave  us  jus'  o-one  drink — 
'piece.     Jus'  five  minutes — go." 

"  How  far  away  was  this  ?  Hware  were  they  ?  An- 
swer or,  damn  you,  I'll  shake  the  truth  out  of  you !" 
shouted  Feeny,  suiting  action  to  word.  "  Spake  before 
you,  too,  are  lying  like  that  other  hog.  Did  you  ever 
see  the  camp?  Did  you  ever  get  to  the  crossing  at 
all  ?  Douse  a  dipper  of  water  over  him,  you  Latham, 
quick.  Wake  up,  I  say,  Mullan.  For  the  love  of 
God,  major,  I  believe  they're  both  drugged.  I  believe 
it's  all  a  damned  lie.  I  believe  it's  only  a  skame  to 
get  you  to  send  out  the  rest  of  your  escort,  so  they  can 
tackle  you  alone.  Kick  him,  Murphy,  kick  him ; 
throt  him  round ;  don't  let  him  get  to  sleep.  Answer 
me,  you  scoundrel !"  he  fairly  yelled,  for  Mullau's  head 
was  drooping  on  his  breast  and  every  lurch  promised 
to  land  him  on  his  face.  Twice  his  knees  doubled  up 
like  a  foot-rule  and  the  stout  little  sergeant  had  to  jerk 
him  to  his  feet 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  27 

"Search  'em  both.  See  if  they've  a  flask  betune 
'era,  Latham.     Answer  me,  Mullan,  did  you  see  the 

burned  camp  ?     Did  you  see  the  dead  man  ?     Did 

Oh,  murther !  he's  gone  !  There's  never  a  word  to  be 
got  out  of  aither  of  them  this  night.  But  don't  you 
believe  that  letther,  major.  Don't  you  trust  a  word  of 
it ;  it's  false  as  hell.  It's  only  a  plant  to  rob  ye  of 
your  escort  first  and  your  life  and  money  later.  That's 
it,  men,  douse  them,  kick  them,  murther  them  both 
if  you  like, — the  curs  ! — and  they'd  drink  when  they 
knowed  every  man  was  needed."  And  adding  force 
to  his  words,  Feeny  drove  a  furious  kick  at  the  luckless 
Mullan. 

"  Do  you  mean  there  is  no  truth  in  this  ?  Do  you 
mean  you  think  it  all  a  fraud,  a  trick?"  at  last  queried 
the  major.     "  Why,  it  seems  incredible  !" 

"  I  say  just  what  I  mean,  major.  It's  a  plot  to  rob 
you.  I  mean  the  gang  has  gathered  for  that  very  pur- 
pose. I  mean  that  every  story  told  us  about  the 
Apaches  west  or  south  of  here  or  between  us  and  the 
Gila  is  a  bloody  lie.  The  guard  at  the  signal-station 
hadn't  seen  or  heard  of  them.  They  laughed  at  me 
when  I  told  them  what  they  tried  to  make  us  believe 
at  Ceralvo's.  'Twas  there  they  wanted  to  have  you 
stop,  for  there  you'd  have  no  chance  at  all.  Shure,  do 
you  suppose  if  the  Apaches  were  out — if  this  story  was 
true — they  wouldn't  have  heard  it  and  investigated  it 


28  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

by  this  time,  and  the  beacon-fire  would  have  been 
blazing  at  the  Picacho  ?" 

Then  Murphy  turned  and  ran  around  the  corner  of 
the  corral  to  a  point  where  he  could  see  the  dim  out- 
line of  the  range  against  the  western  sky.  The  next 
moment  his  voice  rose  upon  the  night  air,  vibrant,, 
thrilling, — 

"  Look  !  God  be  good  to  us,  major !  It's  no  lie. 
The  signal-fire's  blazing  at  the  peak." 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  29 


II. 

Late  that  night,  with  jaded  steeds,  a  little  troop  of 
cavalry  was  pushing  westward  across  the  desert.  The 
young  May  moon  was  sinking  to  rest,  its  pure  pallid 
light  shining  faintly  in  contrast  with  the  ruddy  glow 
of  some  distant  beacon  in  the  mountains  beneath. 
Ever  since  nightfall  the  rock  buttress  at  the  pass  had 
been  reflecting  the  lurid  glare  of  the  leaping  flames 
as,  time  and  again,  unseen  but  busy  hands  heaped  on 
fresh  fuel  and  sent  the  sparks  whirling  in  fiery  eddies 
to  the  sky.  Languid  and  depressed  after  a  long  day's 
battling  with  the  fierce  white  sunshine,  horses  and  men 
would  gladly  have  spent  the  early  hours  of  night 
dozing  at  their  rude  bivouac  in  the  Christobal.  Ever 
since  nine  in  the  morning,  after  a  long  night  march, 
they  had  sought  such  shade  as  the  burning  rocks  might 
afford,  scooping  up  the  tepid  water  from  the  natural 
tanks  at  the  bottom  of  the  caflon  and  thanking  Provi- 
dence it  was  not  alkali.  The  lieutenant  commanding, 
a  tall,  wiry,  keen-faced  young  fellow,  had  made  the 
rounds  of  his  camp  at  sunset,  carefully  picking  up  and 
scrutinizing  the  feet  of  his  horses  and  sending  the  far- 
rier to  tack  on  here  and  there  a  starting  shoe.     Gaunt 

8* 


30  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

and  sunburned  were  his  short-coupled  California 
chargers,  as  were  their  tough-looking  riders ;  fetlocks 
and  beards  were  uniformly  ragged ;  shoes  of  leather 
and  shoes  of  iron  showed  equal  wear.  A  bronze-faced 
sergeant,  silently  following  his  young  chief,  watched 
him  with  inquiring  eyes  and  waited  for  the  decision 
that  was  to  condemn  the  command  to  another  night 
march  across  the  desert,  or  remand  them  to  rest  until 
an  hour  or  so  before  the  dawn. 

"How  far  did  you  say  it  was  to  Ceralvo's,  ser- 
geant?" 

"  About  twenty-two  miles,  west." 

"  And  to  Moreno's  ?" 

"About  fifteen,  sir;  off  here."  And  the  sergeant 
pointed  out  across  the  plain,  lying  like  a  dun-colored 
blanket  far  towards  the  southern  horizon. 

"  We  can  get  barley  and  water  at  both  ?" 

"  Plenty,  sir." 

"  The  men  would  rather  wait  here,  I  suppose,  until 
two  or  three  o'clock  ?" 

"  Very  much,  sir ;  they  haven't  been  able  to  rest  at 
all  to-day.     I've  fed  out  the  last  of  the  barley,  though." 

The  lieutenant  reflected  a  moment,  pensively  study- 
ing the  legs  of  the  trumpeter's  horse. 

il  Is  there  any  chance  of  Moreno's  people  not  having 
heard  about  the  Apaches  in  the  Christobal  ?" 

"  Hardly,  sir ;  they  are  nearer  the  Tucson  road  thau 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  31 

we  are.  The  stage  must  have  gone  through  this 
morning  early.  It's  nothing  new  anyhow.  I've  never 
known  the  time  when  the  Indians  were  not  in  the 
neighborhood  of  that  range.  Moreno,  too,  is  an  old 
hand,  sir." 

The  lieutenant  looked  long  and  intently  out  over  the 
dreary  flats  beyond  the  foot-hills.  Like  the  bottom  of 
some  prehistoric  lake  long  since  sucked  dry  by  the 
action  of  the  sun,  the  parched  earth  stretched  away 
in  mile  after  mile  of  monotonous,  life- ridden  desert, 
a  Sahara  without  sign  of  an  oasis,  a  sandy  barren 
shunned  even  by  scorpion  and  centipede.  Already 
the  glow  was  dying  from  the  western  sky.  The  red 
rim  of  the  distant  range  was  purpling.  The  golden 
gleam  that  flashed  from  rock  to  rock  as  the  sun  went 
down  had  vanished  from  all  but  the  loftiest  summits, 
and  deep,  dark  shadows  were  creeping  slowly  out 
across  the  plain.  Over  the  great  expanse  not  so  much 
as  the  faintest  spark  could  be  seen.  Aloft,  the  greater 
stars  were  beginning  to  peep  through  the  veil  of  pallid 
blue,  while  over  the  distant  pass  the  sun's  fair  hand- 
maiden and  train-bearer,  with  slow,  stately  mien,  was 
sinking  in  the  wake  of  her  lord,  as  though  following 
him  to  his  rest.  Not  a  breath  of  air  was  astir.  The 
night  came  on  still  as  the  realms  of  solitude.  Only 
the  low  chatter  of  the  men,  the  occasional  stamp  of 
iron-shod  hoof  or  the  munching  jaws  of  the  tired 


32  FOES  JN  AMBUSH. 

steeds  broke  in  upon  the  perfect  silence.  From  their 
covert  in  the  westward  slope  of  the  Christobal  the  two 
sentries  of  the  little  command  looked  out  upon  a  life- 
less world.  Beneath  them,  whiffing  their  pipes  after 
their  frugal  supper,  the  troopers  were  chatting  in  low 
tone,  some  of  them  already  spreading  their  blankets 
among  the  shelving  rocks.  The  embers  from  the  cook 
fire  glowed  a  deeper  red  as  the  darkness  gathered  in 
the  pass,  and  every  man  seemed  to  start  as  though 
stung  with  sudden  spur  when  sharp,  quick,  and  im- 
perative there  came  the  cry  from  the  lips  of  the  farther 
sentry, — 

"  Fire,  sir, — out  to  the  west !" 

In  an  instant  Lieutenant  Drummond  had  leaped 
down  the  rocky  canon  and,  field-glass  in  hand,  was 
standing  by  the  sentry's  side.  No  need  to  question 
"  Where  away  ?"  Far  out  across  the  intervening  plain 
a  column  of  flame  was  darting  upward,  gaining  force 
and  volume  with  every  moment.  The  lieutenant 
never  even  paused  to  raise  the  glass  to  his  eyes.  No 
magnifying  power  was  needed  to  see  the  distant  pyre ; 
no  prolonged  search  to  tell  him  what  was  meant.  The 
troopers  who  had  sprung  to  their  feet  and  were  already 
eagerly  following  turned  short  in  their  tracks  at  his 
first  word. 

"  Saddle  up,  men.     It's  the  beacon  at  Signal  Peak." 

Then   came  a   scene   of   bustle.     No   words   were 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  33 

spoken ;  no  further  orders  given.  With  the  skill  of 
long  practice  the  men  gathered  their  few  belongings, 
shook  out  the  dingy  horse-blankets  and  then,  carefully 
folding,  laid  them  creaseless  back  of  the  gaunt  withers 
of  their  faithful  mounts.  The  worn  old  saddles  were 
deftly  set,  the  crude  buckles  of  the  old  days,  long 
since  replaced  by  cincha  loop,  snapped  into  place; 
lariats  coiled  and  swung  from  the  cantle-rings ;  dusty 
old  bits  and  bridles  adjusted ;  then  came  the  slipping 
into  carbine-slings  and  thimble-belts,  the  quick  lacing 
of  Indian  moccasin  or  canvas  legging,  the  filling  of 
canteens  in  the  tepid  tanks  below,  while  all  the  time 
the  cooks  and  packers  were  flying  about  gathering  up 
the  pots  and  pans  and  storing  rations,  bags,  and 
blankets  on  the  roomy  apparejos.  Drummond  was  in 
the  act  of  swinging  into  saddle  when  his  sergeant 
hastened  up. 

"  Beg  pardon,  lieutenant,  but  shall  I  leave  a  small 
guard  with  the  pack-train  or  can  they  come  right 
along?" 

"They'll  go  with  us,  of  course.  We  can't  leave 
them  here.  We  must  head  for  Ceralvo's  at  once.  How 
could  those  Indians  have  got  over  that  way  ?" 

"  It  is  beyond  me  to  say,  sir.  I  didn't  know  they 
ever  went  west  of  the  Santa  Maria." 

"  I  can  hardly  believe  it  now,  but  there's  no  doubt- 
ing that  signal;  it  is  to  call  us  thither  at  all  speed 


34  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

wherever  we  may  be,  and  means  only  one  thing,— 
1  Apaches  here.'  Sergeant  Wing  is  not  the  man  to  get 
stampeded.  Can  they  have  jumped  the  stage,  do  you 
think,  or  attacked  some  of  Ceralvo's  people  ?" 

"  Lord  knows,  sir.  I  don't  see  how  they  could  have 
swung  around  there;  there's  nothing  to  tempt  them 
along  that  range  until  they  get  to  the  pass  itself. 
They  must  have  come  around  south  of  Moreno's." 

"  I  think  not,  sergeant." 

The  words  were  spoken  in  a  very  quiet  voice.  Drum- 
mond  turned  in  surprise,  his  foot  in  the  stirrup,  and 
looked  at  the  speaker,  a  keen-eyed  trooper  of  middle 
age,  whose  hair  was  already  sprinkled  with  gray. 

"Why  not,  Bland?" 

"  Because  we  have  been  along  the  range  for  nearly 
fifty  miles  below  here,  sir,  and  haven't  crossed  a  sign, 
and  because  I  understand  now  what  I  couldn't  account 
for  at  two  o'clock, — what  I  thought  must  be  imag- 
ination." 

"What  was  that?" 

"Smoke,  sir,  off  towards  the  Gila,  north  of  Ce- 
ralvo's, I  should  say,  just  about  north  of  west  of  where 
we  are." 

"Why  didn't  you  report  it?" 

"You  were  asleep,  sir,  and  by  the  time  I  got  the 
glasses  and  looked  it  had  faded  out  entirely ;  but  it's 
my  belief  the  Indians  are  between  us  and  the  river,  or 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  35 

were  over  there  north  of  Ceralvo's  to-day.  If  not 
Indians,  who  ?" 

"You  ride  with  me,  Bland.  I'll  talk  with  you 
further  about  this.  Come  on  with  the  men  as  soon  as 
you  have  the  packs  ready,  sergeant."  And  so  saying, 
Lieutenant  Drummond  mounted  and  rode  slowly  down 
the  winding  trail  among  the  boulders.  At  the  foot  of 
the  slope,  where  the  water  lay  gleaming  in  its  rocky 
bed,  he  reined  his  horse  to  the  left  to  give  him  his  fill 
of  the  pool,  and  here  the  trooper  addressed  as  Bland 
presently  joined  him. 

"  Where  was  it  you  enlisted,  Bland  ?"  was  the 
younger  soldier's  first  question.  "I  understand  you 
are  familiar  with  all  this  country." 

"At  Tucson,  sir,  six  months  ago,  after  the  stage 
company  discharged  me." 

"I  remember,"  was  the  answer,  as  the  lieutenant 
gently  drew  rein  to  lift  his  horse's  head.  "  I  think 
you  were  so  frank  as  to  give  the  reason  of  your  quit- 
ting their  employment." 

"  Well,  there  was  no  sense  trying  to  conceal  it,  or 
anything  else  a  man  may  do  out  here,  lieutenant. 
They  fired  me  for  drinking  too  much  at  the  wrong 
time.  The  section  boss  said  he  couldn't  help  himself, 
and  I  don't  suppose  he  could." 

"As  I  remember,"  said  Drummond,  presently,  and 
with  hesitation,  for  he  hated  to  pry  into  the  past  of  a 


36  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

man  who  spoke  so  frankly  and  who  made  no  effort  to 
conceal  his  weakness,  "  you  were  driver  of  the  buck- 
board  the  Morales  gaug  held  up  last  November  over 
near  the  Catarinas." 

"  Yes ;  that's  the  time  I  got  drunk,  sir.  It's  all  that 
saved  me  from  being  killed,  and  between  keeping  sober 
and  losing  my  life  or  getting  druuk  and  losing  a  job, 
X  preferred  the  latter." 

"Yet  you  were  in  a  measure  responsible  for 
the  safety  of  your  passengers  and  mail,  were  you 
not?" 

"Well,  no,  sir,  not  after  the  warning  I  gave  the 
company.  I  told  them  Ramon  Morales  was  in  Tucson 
the  night  before  we  had  to  pull  out,  and  wherever  he 
was  that  infernal  cut-throat  of  a  brother  of  his  wasn't 
far  away.  I  told  them  it  was  taking  chances  to  let 
Judge  Gillette  and  that  infantry  quartermaster  try  to 
go  through  without  escort.  I  begged  to  throw  up  the 
job  that  very  night,  but  they  held  me  to  my  contract, 
and  I  had  to  go.  We  were  jumped  not  ten  miles  out 
of  town,  and  before  any  one  could  draw  a  Derringer 
every  man  of  us  was  covered.  The  judge  might  have 
known  they'd  shoot  him  on  sight  ever  since  that  Greaser 
from  Hermosillo  was  lynched.  But  they  never  harmed 
the  quartermaster." 

"  Huh  !  The  devil  they  didn't !"  laughed  the  lieu- 
tenant.    "They  took  his  watch  and  his  money  and 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  37 

everything  he  had  on  except  his  underclothing.  How 
long  had  you  been  driving  when  that  happened?" 

"  Just  eight  months,  sir,  between  Tucson  and  Grant." 

"  And  did  you  never  serve  with  the  cavalry  before  ? 
You  ride  as  though  you  had." 

"  Most  men  hereabouts  served  on  one  side  or  other," 
said  Bland,  calmly,  as  his  horse  finished  his  long  pull 
at  the  water. 

"  And  your  side  was ?" 

"  Confederate,"  was  the  brief  reply.  "  I  was  born 
in  Texas.     Here  comes  the  troop,  sir." 

"  Come  on,  then.  I  want  to  ask  you  about  that 
trail  to  Crittenden  as  we  ride.  We  make  first  for  the 
Picacho  Pass  from  here." 

"  Why,  that's  south  of  west,  sir,"  answered  Bland. 
"  I  had  thought  perhaps  the  lieutenant  would  want  to 
go  northward  towards  the  Gila  to  head  off  any  parties 
of  the  Apaches  that  might  be  striving  to  get  away 
eastward  with  their  booty.  They  must  have  picked 
up  something  over  at  the  Bend." 

"They're  more  likely  to  go  southward,  Bland,  for 
they  know  where  we've  been  scouting  all  the  week. 
No,  I'll  march  straight  to  the  signal.  There  they 
must  know  where  the  Indians  have  gone." 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir,  but  then  you  can  only  pursue,  and  a 
stern  chase  is  a  long  one." 

Drummond  turned  in  saddle  as  they  rode  forth  upon 
4 


38  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

the  dark  falda  and  gazed  long  and  fixedly  at  the 
trooper  by  his  side.  Imperturbably  Bland  continued 
to  look  straight  ahead.  Queer  stories  had  been  afloat 
regarding  this  new  acquisition.  He  mingled  but  little 
with  the  men.  He  affected  rather  the  society  of  the 
better  class  of  non-commissioned  officers,  an  offence 
not  likely  to  be  condoned  in  a  recruit.  He  was  already 
distinguished  for  his  easy  mastery  of  every  detail  of 
a  cavalryman's  duty,  and  for  his  readiness  to  go  at 
any  or  all  times  on  scout,  escort,  or  patrol,  and  the 
more  hazardous  or  lonely  the  task  the  better  he  seemed 
to  like  it.  Then  he  was  helpful  about  the  offices  in 
garrison,  wrote  a  neat  hand,  was  often  pressed  into 
service  to  aid  with  the  quartermaster  or  commis- 
sary papers,  and  had  been  offered  permanent  daily 
duty  as  company  clerk,  but  begged  off,  saying  he  loved 
a  horse  and  cavalry  work  too  well  to  be  mured  in  an 
office.  He  was  silence  and  reticence  itself  on  matters 
affecting  other  people,  but  the  soul  of  frankness,  appar- 
ently, where  he  was  personally  concerned.  Anybody 
was  welcome  to  know  his  past,  he  said.  He  was  raised 
in  Texas;  had  lived  for  years  on  the  frontier;  had 
been  through  Arizona  with  a  bull-team  in  the  50's,  and 
had  'listed  under  the  banner  of  the  Lone  Star  when 
Texas  went  the  way  of  all  the  sisterhood  of  Southern 
(not  border)  States,  and  then,  being  stranded  after  the 
war,  had  "  bullwhacked"  again  through  New  Mexico ; 


FOES  JN  AMBUSH.  39 

had  drifted  again  across  the  Mimbres  and  down  to  the 
old  Spanish-Mexican  town  of  Tucson ;  had  tried  pros- 
pecting, mail-riding,  buck-board  driving,  gambling; 
had  been  one  of  the  sheriff's  posse  that  cleaned  out 
Sonora  Bill's  little  band  of  thugs  and  cut-throats,  and 
had  expressed  entire  willingness  to  officiate  as  that 
lively  outlaw's  executioner  in  case  of  his  capture.  He 
had  twice  been  robbed  while  driving  the  stage  across 
the  divide  and  had  been  left  for  dead  in  the  Maricopa 
range,  an  episode  which  he  said  was  the  primal  cause 
of  his  dissipations  later.  Finally,  after  a  summary 
discharge  he  had  come  to  the  adjutant  at  Camp  Lowell, 
presented  two  or  three  certificates  of  good  character 
and  bravery  in  the  field  from  officers  who  bore  famous 
names  in  the  Southern  army,  and  the  regimental  re- 
cruiting officer  thought  he  could  put  up  with  an  occa- 
sional drunk  in  a  man  who  promised  to  make  as  good 
a  trooper  under  the  stars  and  stripes  as  he  had  made 
under  the  stars  and  bars.  And  so  he  was  enlisted,  and, 
to  the  surprise  of  everybody,  hadn't  taken  a  drop  since, 
Now  this,  said  the  rank  and  file,  was  proof  positive 
of  something  radically  wrong,  either  in  his  disposition 
or  his  record.  It  was  entirely  comprehensible  and 
fully  in  accordance  with  human  nature  and  the  merits 
of  the  case  that  a  man  should  quit  drinking  when  he 
quit  the  army,  but  that  a  man  with  the  blot  of  an 
occasional  spree  on  his  escutcheon  should  enlist  for 


40  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

any  other  cause  than  sheer  desperation,  and  should 
then  become  a  teetotaler,  was  nothing  short  of  prima 
Jack  evidence  of  moral  depravity. 

"  There's  something  behind  it  all,  fellers,"  said  Cor- 
poral Murphy,  "and  I  mean  to  keep  an  eye  on  him 
from  this  out.  If  he  don't  dhrink  next  pay-day,  look 
out  for  him.  He's  a  professional  gambler  laying  for 
your  hard-earned  greenbacks." 

And  so  while  the  seniors  among  the  sergeants  were 
becoming  gradually  the  associates,  if  not  the  intimates, 
of  this  fine-looking  trooper,  the  mass  of  the  regiment, 
or  rather  the  little  detachment  thereof  stationed  at 
Lowell,  looked  upon  Bland  with  the  eye  of  suspicion. 
There  was  one  sergeant  who  repudiated  him  entirely, 
and  who  openly  professed  his  disbelief  in  Bland's 
account  of  himself,  and  that  was  Feeny.  "  He  may 
have  testimonials  from  all  Texas,"  said  he,  hotly,  "  but 
I've  no  use  for  that  sort  of  credentials.  Who  can 
vouch  for  his  goings  and  comings  hereabouts  before 
he  joined  us  ?  I  think  Murphy's  right,  and  if  I  was 
stationed  at  Lowell  and  belonged  to  his  troop,  you  bet 
I'd  watch  him  close." 

Now,  in  all  the  command  it  would  have  been  a  hard 
matter  to  find  a  soldier  in  whose  favor  appearances 
were  so  unanimously  allied.  Tall,  erect,  sinewy,  and 
active,  he  rode  or  walked  with  an  easy  grace  that  none 
could  fail  to  mark.     His  features  were  fine  and  clear 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  41 

cut ;  his  eyes  a  dark  hazel,  with  heavy  curling  lashes 
and  bushy,  low-arched  brows ;  his  complexion,  natu- 
rally dark,  was  bronzed  by  sun  and  sand-storm  to  a 
hue  almost  Mexican.  He  shaved  clean  all  but  the 
heavy  moustache  that  drooped  over  his  firm  lips,  and 
the  sprinkling  of  gray  about  the  brows,  temples,  and 
moustache  was  most  becoming  to  his  peculiar  style. 
One  prominent  mark  had  he  which  the  descriptive 
book  of  his  company  referred  to  simply  as  "sabre- 
scar  on  right  jaw,"  but  it  deserved  mention  more 
extended,  for  the  whitish  streak  ran  like  a  groove 
from  just  below  the  ear-tip  to  the  angle  of  the 
square,  resolute  chin.  It  looked  as  though  in  some 
desperate  fray  a  mad  sweep  had  been  made  with  venge- 
ful blade  straight  for  the  jugular,  and,  just  missing 
that,  had  laid  open  the  jaw  for  full  four  inches. 
"  But,"  said  Feeny,  "  what  could  he  have  been  doing, 
and  in  what  position  could  he  have  been,  sitting  or 
standing,  to  get  a  sabre-stroke  like  that  ?     Where  was 

his  guard  ?    A  Bowie-knife,  now "  and  there  the 

suggestion  ended. 

But  it  was  the  scarred  side  of  Bland's  soldierly  face 
that  young  Lieutenant  Drummond  was  so  closely 
studying  as  they  rode  out  into  the  starlit  Arizona 
night.  He,  too,  had  heard  the  camp  chat  about  this 
apparently  frank,  open-hearted  trooper,  and  had  found 
himself  more  than  once  speculating  as  to  his  real  past, 

4* 


42  FOES  IN  AMBUSH 

not  the  past  of  his  imagination  or  of  his  easy  off-hand 
description.  By  this  time,  in  perfect  silence  save  for 
the  occasional  clink  of  canteen,  the  gurgle  of  im- 
prisoned water,  or,  once  in  a  while,  the  click  of  iron- 
shod  hoof,  the  troop  was  marching  in  shadowy  column 
of  twos  well  out  beyond  the  falda  and  over  the  almost 
dead  level  of  the  plain.  Far  ahead  the  beacon  still 
blazed  brightly  aud  beckoned  them  on.  It  was  time 
for  precaution. 

"  Sergeant,"  said  Drum  mo  nd,  "  send  a  corporal  and 
four  men  forward.  Let  them  spread  out  across  the 
front  and  keep  three  or  four  hundred  yards  ahead  of 
us.  Better  take  those  with  the  freshest  horses,  as  I 
want  them  to  scout  thoroughly  and  to  be  on  the 
alert  for  the  faintest  sound.  Any  of  our  men  who 
know  this  valley  well  ?" 

"  None  better  than  Bland  here,  sir,"  was  the  half- 
hesitant  reply. 

"  W-e-1-1,  I  need  Bland  just  now.  Put  some  of  the 
old  hands  aud  older  heads  on,  and  don't  let  anything 
escape  their  notice." 

"Beg  pardon,  lieutenant,  but  what's  to  be  the  line 
of  direction?  When  we  started  it  was  understood  that 
we  were  to  take  the  shortest  cut  for  Ceralvo's,  and 
now  we're  heading  for  the  Picatch." 

"  No,  we  make  for  the  pass  first ;  that's  the  quickest 
Way  to  reach  the  signal-station,  then  we  learn  where  to 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  43 

strike  for  the  Indians.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  their 
being  as  far  west  as  the  Maricopa  range  before  ?" 

"  Never,  sir,  in  the  whole  time  we've  been  here,  and 
since  the  lieutenant  joined  they've  never  been  heard  of 
crossing  the  Santa  Maria  valley." 

"What  on  earth  could  tempt  them  out  so  far? 
There's  nothing  to  be  gained  and  every  chance  of 
being  cut  off  by  troops  from  Grant  and  Bowie,  even  if 
they  do  succeed  in  slipping  by  us." 

"That's  more  than  I  can  tell,  sir.  The  men  say 
the  paymaster's  coming  along  this  week ;  they  heard 
it  from  the  quartermaster's  train  we  passed  at  the 
Cienega  three  days  ago." 

Trooper  Bland  was  riding  in  silence  on  the  left  of 
the  detachment  commander  as  he  had  been  directed. 
The  sergeant  had  come  up  on  the  other  flank. 

"  What  men  heard  this  ?"  asked  Drummond,  quickly. 

"  Why,  Patterson  told  me,  sir,  and  Lucas  and  Quinn, 
and  I  think  Bland  here  was  talking  with  the  train 
escort  and  must  have  heard  it." 

"Did  you,  Bland?"  asked  the  lieutenant,  as  he 
whirled  suddenly  in  his  saddle  and  faced  the  trooper. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  was  the  prompt  reply ;  "  several  of  the 
men  spoke  of  it.  It's  about  the  most  welcome  piece 
of  news  they  could  give  to  fellows  who  had  four 
months'  pay  due." 

In  the  isolation  of  this  mountain  scouting  business, 


44  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

when,  as  often  happens,  one  officer  is  out  alone  for 
weeks  with  no  comrades  or  associates  but  his  detach- 
ment, it  naturally  results  that  a  greater  freedom  of 
intercourse  and  speech  is  developed  between  the  com- 
mander and  some,  at  least,  of  his  party  than  would 
ever  be  the  case  in  years  of  garrison  life ;  and  so  it 
happened  that  for  the  moment  Drummond  forgot  the 
commander  in  the  man. 

"  It  is  most  extraordinary,"  he  said,  "  that  just  when 
a  paymaster  is  anxious  to  keep  secret  the  date  and 
route  of  his  coming  the  whole  thing  is  heralded  ahead. 
We  have  no  telegraph,  and  yet  three  days  ago  we 
knew  that  Major  Plummer  was  starting  on  his  first 
trip.  He  ought  to  have  been  at  Ceralvo's  last  night. 
By  Jupiter !  suppose  he  was — and  had  but  a  small 
escort  ?  What  else  could  that  signal-fire  mean  ? 
Here !  get  those  men  out  to  the  front  now  at  once ; 
we  must  push  ahead  for  all  we're  worth.,, 

And  so  at  midnight,  with  steeds  panting  and  jaded, 
with  the  pass  and  the  Picacho  only  four  miles  ahead, 
the  little  detachment  was  tripping  noiselessly  through 
the  darkness,  and,  all  alert  and  eager,  Drummond  was 
riding  midway  between  his  scouts  and  the  main  body 
so  that  no  sound  close  at  hand  might  distract  his  atten- 
tion from  hails  or  signals  farther  out.  Suddenly  he 
heard  an  exclamation  ahead,  the  snort  of  a  frightened 
horse,  then  some  muffled  objurgations,  a  rider  urging  a 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  45 

reluctant  steed  to  approach  some  suspicious  object,  and, 
spurring  his  own  spirited  charger  forward,  Mr.  Drum- 
moud  came  presently  upon  the  corporal  just  dismount- 
ing in  the  darkness  and  striving  to  lead  his  boon 
companion,  whom  he  could  not  drive,  up  to  some 
dark  object  lying  on  the  plain.  This,  too,  failed.  A 
low  whistle,  however,  brought  one  of  the  other  scouts 
trotting  in  to  the  rescue. 

"Hold  him  a  minute,  Burke,"  said  the  corporal, 
handing  up  the  reins.  "  There's  something  out  here  this 
brute  shied  at  and  I  can't  get  him  near  it  again."  With 
that  he  pushed  out  to  the  front  while  the  others  listened 
expectant.  A  moment  later  a  match  was  struck,  and 
presently  burned  brightly  in  the  black  and  breathless 
night.     Then  came  the  startled  cry, — 

"  My  God  !  lieutenant.  It's  Corporal  Donovan  and 
his  horse, — both  dead." 

And  even  there  Mr.  Drummond  noted  that  Bland 
was  about  the  first  of  the  column  to  come  hurrying 
forward  to  the  scene. 

Ten  minutes'  investigation  threw  but  little  light  upon 
the  tragedy.  Some  stumps  of  candles  were  found  in 
the  saddle-bags  and  packs,  and  with  these  the  men 
scoured  the  plain  for  signs.  Spreading  well  out  from 
the  centre,  they  closely  examined  the  sandy  level. 
From  the  north  came  the  trail  of  two  cavalry  horses, 
shod  alike,  both  at  the  lope,  both  draggy  and  weary. 


46  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

From  the  point  where  lay  Donovan  and  his  steed  there 
was  but  one  horse-track.  Whirling  sharply  around, 
the  rider  had  sent  his  mount  at  thundering  gallop  back 
across  the  valley ;  then  a  hundred  yards  away,  in  long 
curve,  had  reined  him  to  the  southeast.  The  troopers 
who  followed  the  hoof-marks  out  about  an  eighth  of 
a  mile  declared  that,  un wounded,  both  horse  and  rider 
were  making  the  best  of  their  way  towards  Moreno's 
ranch.  Farther  search,  not  fifty  yards  to  the  front, 
revealed  the  fact  that  at  the  edge  of  a  little  depression 
and  behind  some  cactus-bushes  three  human  forms  had 
been  lying  prone,  and  from  this  point  probably  had 
sped  the  deadly  bullet. 

"  Apaches,  by  God  !"  muttered  one  of  the  men. 

"  Apaches,  your  grandmother !"  was  the  sergeant's 
fierce  reply.  "  Will  you  never  learn  sense,  Moore  ? 
Wrhen  did  Apaches  take  to  wearing  store  clothes  and 
heeled  boots?  There's  no  Apache  in  this,  lieutenant. 
Look  here,  sir,  and  here.  Move  out  farther,  some  of  you 
fellows,  and  see  where  they  hid  their  horses.  Corporal 
Donovan  was  with  'C  troop  down  the  Gila  last  week, 
sir.  They  were  to  meet  and  escort  the  paymaster 
most  like.  It's  my  belief  he  was  one  of  the  guard,  and 
that  the  ambulance  has  been  jumped  this  very  night. 
These  are  road  agents,  not  Apaches,  and  God  knows 
what's  happened  if  they've  got  away  with  Patsy.  Sure 
he  was  one  of  the  nerviest  men  in  the  whole  troop,  sir." 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  47 

Dnunmond  listened,  every  nerve  a-tingle,  even  while 
with  hurried  hands  he  cut  open  the  shirt  at  the  brawny 
throat  and  felt  for  fluttering  heart-beat  or  faintest  sign 
of  life.  Useless.  The  shot-hole  under  the  left  eye  told 
plainly  that  the  leaden  missile  had  torn  its  way  through 
the  brain  and  that  death  must  have  been  instantaneous. 
The  soldier's  arms  and  accoutrements,  the  horse's 
equipments,  were  gone.  The  bodies  lay  unmutilated. 
The  story  was  plain.  Separated  in  some  way  from  the 
detachment,  Donovan  and  his  companion  had  probably 
sighted  the  signal  blazing  at  the  pass  and  come  riding 
hard  to  reach  the  spot,  when  the  unseen  foe  crouching 
across  their  path  had  suddenly  fired  the  fatal  shots. 
Now,  where  was  the  paymaster  ?  "Where  the  escort  ? 
Where  the  men  who  fed  the  signal-fire, — the  fire  that 
long  before  midnight  had  died  utterly  away.  Whither 
should  the  weary  detachment  direct  its  march  ?  Ce- 
ralvo's  lay  a  dozen  miles  off  to  the  northwest,  Moreno's 
perhaps  eight  or  nine  to  the  southeast.  Why  had  the 
escaped  trooper  headed  his  fleeing  steed  in  that  direc- 
tion? Had  there  been  pursuit?  Ay,  ten  minutes' 
search  over  the  still  and  desolate  plain  revealed  the  fact 
that  two  horsemen  lurking  in  a  sand-pit  or  dry  arroyo 
had  pushed  forth  at  top  speed  and  ridden  away  full 
tilt  across  the  desert,  straight  as  the  crow  flies,  towards 
Moreno's  well.  Even  while  Drummond,  holding 
brief  consultation  with  his  sergeant,  was  deliberating 


48  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

whether  to  turn  thither  or  to  push  for  the  signal-peak 
and  learn  what  he  could  from  the  little  squad  of  blue 
jackets  there  on  duty,  the  matter  was  decided  for  him. 
Sudden  and  shrill  there  came  the  cry  from  the  out- 
skirts of  the  now  dismounted  troop  clustered  about 
the  body  of  their  comrade. 

"  Another  fire,  lieutenant !  Look  ! — out  here  to- 
wards the  Santa  Maria." 

The  sergeant  sprang  to  his  feet,  shouldering  his 
burly  way  through  the  excited  throng.  One  moment 
more  and  his  voice  was  heard  in  louder,  fiercer  tones. 

"  No  signal  this  time,  sir.  By  God !  they've  fired 
Moreno's  ranch  1" 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  49 


in. 

Shortly  after  sunset  on  this  same  hot  evening  the 
sergeant  in  charge  of  the  little  signal-party  at  the 
Picacho  came  strolling  forth  from  his  tent  puffing  at  a 
battered  brier-root  pipe.  Southward  and  a  few  hun- 
dred feet  below  his  perch  the  Yuma  road  came  twist- 
ing through  the  pass,  and  then  disappeared  in  the 
gathering  darkness  across  the  desert  plain  that  stretched 
between  them  and  the  distant  Santa  Maria.  Over  to 
the  east  the  loftiest  crags  of  the  Christobal  were  still 
faintly  tinged  by  the  last  touch  of  departed  day. 
Southward  still,  beyond  the  narrow  and  tortuous  pass, 
the  range  rose  high  and  precipitous,  covered  and 
fringed  with  black  masses  of  cedar,  stunted  pine,  and 
juniper.  North  of  west,  on  the  line  of  the  now  in- 
visible road,  and  far  out  towards  the  Gila,  a  faint 
light  was  just  twinkling.  There  lay  Ceralvo's,  and 
nowhere  else,  save  where  the  embers  of  the  cook  fire 
still  glowed  in  a  deep  crevice  among  the  rocks,  was 
there  light  of  any  kind  to  be  seen.  A  lonely  spot  was 
this  in  which  to  spend  one's  days,  yet  the  soldier 
in  charge  seemed  in  no  wise  oppressed  with  sense  of 
c        d  6 


50  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

isolation.  It  was  his  comrade,  sitting  moodily  on  a 
convenient  rock,  elbows  on  knees  and  chiu  deep  buried 
in  his  brown  and  hairy  bauds,  who  seemed  brooding 
over  the  desolation  of  his  surroundings. 

Watching  him  in  silence  a  moment,  a  quiet  smile  of 
amusement  on  his  lips,  Sergeant  Wing  sauntered  over 
and  placed  a  friendly  hand  on  the  broad  blue  shoulder. 

"  Well,  Pikey,  are  you  wishing  yourself  back  in 
Frisco  ?" 

"  I'm  wishing  myself  in  Tophet,  sergeant ;  it  may 
be  hotter,  but  it  isn't  as  lonely  as  this  infernal  hole." 

"  No,  it's  populous  enough,  probably,"  was  the  re- 
sponse, "and,"  added  he,  with  a  whimsical  smile,  "no 
doubt  you've  lots  of  friends  there,  Pike." 

"Maybe  I  have,  and  maybe  I  haven't.  At  all 
events,  I've  none  here.  Why  in  thunder  couldn't  you 
let  me  look  into  that  business  over  at  Ceralvo's  instead 
of  Jackson  ? — he  gets  everything  worth  having.  I'm 
shelved  for  his  sake  day  after  day." 

"  Couldn't  send  you,  Pike,  on  any  such  quest  as 
that.  Those  Greasers  have  sharp  eyes,  and  one  look 
at  your  face  would  convince  them  that  we'd  lost  our 
grip  or  were  in  for  a  funeral.  Jackson,  now,  rides  in 
as  blithe  as  a  May  morning, — a  May  morning  out  of 
Arizona,  I  mean.  They  never  get  the  best  of  him. 
The  ouly  trouble  is  he  stays  too  long ;  he  ought  to  be 
back  here  now." 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  51 

"  Humph !  he'll  be  apt  to  come  back  in  a  hurry 
with  Pat  Donovan  and  those  { C  troop  fellows  spend- 
ing their  money  like  water  at  Ceralvo's." 

"  You  still  insist  they're  over  there,  do  you,  Pike  ? 
I  think  they're  not.  I  flagged  old  Feeny  half  an 
hour  ago  that  they  hadn't  come  through  here." 

"  Who  was  that  fellow  who  rode  back  here  with  the 
note?"  asked  Pike. 

"  I  don't  know  his  name.  '  Dutchy'  they  call  him 
in  '  C  troop.     He's  on  his  second  enlistment." 

"  More  fool  he  !  The  man  who  re-enlists  in  this 
Territory  must  be  either  drunk  or  Dutch."  And  Pike 
relapsed  into  gloomy  silence  again,  his  eyes  fixed  upon 
the  faint  flicker  of  the  bar  lights  at  Ceralvo's  miles 
away ;  but  Wing  only  laughed  again,  and,  still 
puffing  away  at  his  pipe,  went  on  down  the  winding 
trail  to  where  in  the  deep  shelter  of  the  rocky 
walls  a  pool  of  water  lay  gleaming.  Here  he  threw 
himself  flat  and,  laying  aside  his  precious  pipe, 
drank  long  and  eagerly ;  then  with  sudden  plunge 
doused  his  hot  face  in  the  cooling  flood  and  came  up 
dripping. 

"  Thank  the  Lord  I  have  no  desert  march  to  make 
to-day, — all  on  a  wild-goose  chase,"  was  his  pious 
ejaculation.  "  What  on  earth  could  have  induced  the 
paymaster  to  send  a  detachment  over  to  the  Gila?" 
He  took  from  his  pocket  a  pencilled  note  and  slowly 


52  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

twisted  it  in  his  fingers.  It  was  too  dark  to  read,  but 
in  its  soldierly  brevity  he  almost  knew  it  by  heart. 
"  The  major  sent  Donovan  with  half  the  escort  back 
to  the  Gila  on  an  Apache  scare  this  morning.  They 
will  probably  return  your  way,  empty-handed.  Signal 
if  they  have  passed.  Latham  knows  your  code  and 
we  have  a  good  glass.  Send  man  to  Ceralvo's  wiih 
orders  for  them  to  join  at  once  if  they  haven't  come, 
and  flag  or  torch  when  they  pass  you.  It's  my  belief 
they've  gone  there."  This  was  signed  by  Feeuy,  and 
over  and  again  had  Wing  been  speculating  as  to 
what  it  all  meant.  When  the  escort  with  the  ambu- 
lance and  paymaster  went  through  before  the  dawn, 
Feeny  had  roused  him  to  ask  if  anything  had  been 
heard  of  Indians  on  the  war-path  between  them  and 
the  Sonora  line,  and  the  answer  was  both  prompt  and 
positive,  "  No."  As  for  their  being  north  or  north  of 
west  of  his  station,  and  up  towards  the  Gila,  Wing 
scouted  the  suggestion.  He  wished,  however,  that 
Jackson  were  back  with  such  tidings  as  he  had  picked 
up  at  Ceralvo's.  It  was  always  best  to  be  prepared, 
even  though  this  was  some  distance  away  from  the 
customary  raiding-ground  of  the  tribe. 

Just  then  there  came  a  hail  from  aloft.  Pikey  was 
shouting. 

"  All  right,"  answered  Wing,  cheerily  ;  "  be  there  in 
a  minute,"  and  then  went  springing  up  the  trail  as 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  53 

though  the  climb  of  four  hundred  feet  were  a  mere 
bagatelle.  "  What's  up  ? — Jackson  here  ?"  he  asked, 
short  of  breath  as  he  reached  the  little  nook  in  which 
their  brush-covered  tents  were  pitched.  There  was  no 
reply. 

"  Pike.     Oh-h,  Pike !    Where  are  you  ?"  he  called. 

And  presently,  faint  and  far  somewhere  down  in  the 
dark  caflon  to  the  south,  a  voice  replied, — 

"  Down  hyar.     Something's  coming  up  the  road." 

Surely  enough.  Probably  a  quarter-mile  away  a  dim 
light  as  of  a  swinging  lantern  could  be  seen  following 
the  winding  of  the  rough  and  rock-ribbed  road.  Then 
came  the  click  of  iron-shod  hoofs,  the  crack  of  the 
long  mule-whip,  and  a  resonant  imprecation  in  Spanish 
levelled  at  the  invisible  draught  animals.  Bounding 
lightly  down  the  southward  path,  Sergeant  Wing  soon 
reached  the  roadside,  and  there  found  Pike  in  converse 
with  a  brace  of  horsemen. 

"  It's  old  Harvey's  outfit,  from  Yuma,  making  for 
Moreuo's,"  vouchsafed  the  soldier. 

"Oh,  is  that  you,  Sergeant  Wing?  I  ought  to 
have  known  you  were  here.  I'm  Ned  Harvey."  And 
the  taller  horseman  held  out  a  hand,  which  Wing 
grasped  and  shook  with  cordial  fervor. 

"Which  way,  Mr.  Harvey,  and  who  are  with 
you?" 

"  Home  to  Tucson.  My  sisters  are  in  the  Concord 
6* 


54  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

behind  us,  going  to  visit  the  old  folks  for  a  few  weeks 
before  their  trip  to  Cuba." 

"  You  don't  tell  me  !"  exclaimed  Wing.  "  They're 
the  first  ladies  to  pass  through  here  since  I  came  on 
duty  at  the  station  two  months  ago.  You  stay  at 
Moreno's,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  Yes ;  the  governor  meets  us  there  with  relays  and 
four  or  five  men.  We  knew  there  would  be  no  danger 
west  of  the  Santa  Maria." 

"  W-e-U, — did  you  stop  at  Ceralvo's  or  see  any  of 
their  people  ?" 

"No,  I  never  put  in  there.  Father's  very  sus- 
picious of  that  gang.     Why  do  you  ask,  though  ?" 

Wing  hesitated.  "There  was  some  story  afloat 
about  Apaches,"  he  finally  said.  "The  paymaster's 
escort  threw  off  a  detachment  towards  the  Gila  this 
morning,  and  I  sent  one  of  my  two  men  back  to 
Ceralvo's  to  inquire.     You  must  have  met  him." 

"No,  we  made  a  circuit, —  came  by  the  old  trail 
around  the  head  of  the  slough.  We  haven't  passed 
anybody,  have  we,  Tony?"  he  asked  of  the  silent 
horseman  by  his  side. 

"None,  sefior;  but  there  were  many  hoof-trails 
leading  to  Ceralvo's,"  was  the  answer,  in  the  Spanish 
tongue. 

"  Then  you'll  need  water  here,  Mr.  Harvey.  It's  a 
ten-mile  pull  across  to  Moreno's,"  said  Wing,  as  the 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  55 

four-mule  team  came  laboring  up  to  the  spot  and  will- 
ingly halted,  the  lantern  at  the  forward  axle  slowly 
settling  into  inertia  from  its  pendulum-like  swing. 

"  Where  are  we,  Ned  ?"  hailed  a  blithe  young  voice. 
Sweet  and  silvery  it  sounded  to  the  trooper's  unac- 
customed ears.     "  Surely  not  at  Moreno's  yet  ?" 

"Not  yet,  Paquita  mia.  Is  Ruth  awake?  Tell 
her  to  poke  that  curly  pate  of  hers  out  of  the  door.  I 
want  you  to  know  Mr.  Wing,  Sergeant  Wing,  who  has 
charge  of  the  signal-station  here." 

Almost  instantly  a  slender  hand,  holding  a  little 
brass  hurricane  lantern,  appeared  at  the  opening,  fol- 
lowed by  a  sweet,  smiling  face,  while  just  behind  it 
peered  another,  only  a  trifle  older  and  more  serious, 
yet  every  whit  as  pretty.  Wing  raised  his  old  felt  hat 
and  mentally  cursed  the  luck  that  had  sent  him  down 
there  in  his  ragged  shirt-sleeves.  Pike,  the  cynic, 
busied  himself  in  getting  the  buckets  from  underneath 
the  stout  spring  wagon,  and  bumped  his  head  savagely 
against  the  trunk-laden  boot  as  he  emerged. 

"  I  never  dreamed  of  seeing  ladies  to-night,"  laughed 
the  sergeant.  "  It's  the  rarest  sight  in  all  the  world 
here;  but  I  remember  you  well  when  you  came  to 
Yuma  last  year.  That  was  when  you  were  going  to 
school  at  San  Francisco,  I  believe." 

"  That  was  when  I  was  in  short  dresses  and  a  long 
face,  sergeant,"  merrily  answered  the  younger  girl.  "  I 


56  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

bated  the  idea  of  going  there  to  school.  Fan,  here, 
was  willing  enough,  but  I  had  never  known  anything 
but  Arizona  and  Mexico.  All  I  could  think  of  was 
that  I  was  leaving  home." 

"She  was  soon  reconciled,  Mr.  Wing,"  said  Miss 
Harvey ;  "  there  were  some  very  pleasant  people  on  the 
steamer.", 

"  Oh,  very  pleasant  for  you,  Fan,  but  what  did  they 
care  for  a  chit  of  fourteen  ?  You  had  lovely  times,  of 
course." 

"  So  did  you,  Ruth,  from  the  very  day  Mr.  Drum- 
mond  helped  you  to  catch  your  dolphin." 

"  Ah  !  we  were  more  than  half-way  to  San  Francisco 
then,"  protested  Miss  Ruth,  promptly,  "and  nobody  had 
taken  any  notice  of  me  whatever  up  to  that  minute." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Drummond  made  up  for  lost  time  from 
that  on,"  laughed  the  elder  sister.  "  I  never  told  of 
her,  Ned, — wasn't  I  good  ? — but  Ruth  lost  her  young 
heart  to  a  cavalry  cadet  not  a  year  out  of  the  Point." 

"Is  it  our  Lieutenant  Drummond  who  was  with 
you  ?"  queried  Wing. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  why,  to  be  sure,  he  is  of  your  regiment. 
He  was  going  back  to  testify  before  some  court  at  the 
Presidio,  and — wasn't  madame  mean  ? — she  wouldn't 
allow  him  to  call  on  Ruth  at  the  school,  even  when  I 
promised  to  play  chaperon  and  insure  strict  propriety 
and  no  flirting." 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  57 

Ruth  Harvey  had,  with  quick  movement,  uplifted  a 
little  hand  to  silence  her  sister,  but  the  hand  dropped, 
startled,  and  the  color  rushed  to  her  face  at  Wing's 
next  words. 

"  Then  you're  almost  sure  to  meet  the  lieutenant 
to-night  or  to-morrow.  He's  been  scouting  the  Santa 
Maria  and  the  Christobal  and  is  due  along  here  at  this 
very  moment." 

And  now  Miss  Harvey  had  the  field  to  herself,  for 
the  younger  sister  drew  back  into  the  dark  depths  of 
the  covered  wagon  and  spoke  no  more.  In  ten  minutes 
the  team  was  rattling  down  the  eastward  slope,  and 
Sergeant  Wing  turned  with  a  sigh,  as  at  last  even  the 
sound  of  hoof  and  wheel  had  died  away.  Slowly  he 
climbed  the  steep  and  crooked  trail  to  their  aerie  at  the 
peak.  No  sign  of  Jackson  yet,  no  message  from  the 
ranch,  no  signal-fires  at  Moreno's  or  beyond.  Yet,  was 
he  right  in  telling  Harvey  with  such  precious  freight 
to  push  on  across  that  open  plain  when  there  was  even 
rumor  of  Apache  in  the  air?  The  loveliness  of  those 
two  dark,  radiant  faces,  the  pretty  white  teeth  flashing 
in  the  lantern  light,  the  soft,  silvery,  girlish  voices,  the 
kindly,  cordial  hand-clasp  vouchsafed  him  by  the  elder, 
as  they  rolled  away, — these  were  things  to  stir  the  heart 
of  any  man  long  exiled  in  this  desert  land.  It  had 
been  his  custom  to  spend  an  hour  in  chat  with  his 
comrades  before  turning  in  for  the  night;  but  with 


58  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

Jackson  still  away  and  Pike  still  plunged  in  gloom, 
with,  moreover,  new  and  stirring  emotions  to  investi- 
gate and  analyze,  Wing  strolled  off  by  himself,  passed 
around  the  rocky  buttress  at  the  point  and  came  to  the 
broad  ledge  overlooking  the  eastward  way  to  the  dis- 
tant range.  Here  a  mass  of  tinder,  dry  baked  by 
weeks'  exposure  to  the  burning  sunshine,  stood  in  a 
pyramid  of  firewood  ready  to  burst  in  flame  at  first 
touch  of  the  torch.  Close  at  hand  were  the  stacks  of 
reserve  fuel.  "  Never  light  this  until  you  know  the 
Indians  are  raiding  west  of  the  Christobal,"  were  his 
orders.  But  well  he  knew  that  once  ignited  it  could 
be  seen  for  many  a  league.  Here  again  he  filled  his 
faithful  pipe  and,  moving  safe  distance  away,  lighted 
its  charge  and  tossed  the  match-stump  among  the 
jagged  rocks  below.  He  saw  the  spark  go  sailing 
downward,  unwafled  from  its  course  by  faintest  breath 
of  air.  Then  he  heard  Pike's  growl  or  something 
like  it,  and  called  to  him  to  ask  if  he  heard  Jackson. 
No  answer.  Sure  that  he  had  heard  the  gruff,  though 
inarticulate,  voice  of  his  comrade,  he  hailed  again 
more  loudly  than  before,  and  still  there  came  no  reply. 
Surprised,  he  stepped  quickly  back  around  the  rocky 
point  to  where  the  tents  lay  under  the  sheltering  cliff, 
and  came  face  to  face  with  three  dark,  shadowy  forms, 
whose  moccasined  footsteps  gave  no  sound,  whose 
masked  and  blackened  faces  defied  recognition,  whose 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  59 

cocked  revolvers  were  thrust  into  his  very  face  before 
a  lariat  settled  over  his  shoulders,  snapped  into  place, 
and,  yelling  for  help  when  help  was  miles  beyond 
range  of  his  ringing  voice,  Sergeant  Wing  was  jerked 
violently  to  earth,  dragged  into  a  tent,  strapped  to  a 
cot,  deftly  gagged,  and  then  left  to  himself.  An  instant 
later  the  Picacho  was  lighted  up  with  a  lurid,  unearthly 
glare ;  the  huge  column  of  sparks  went  whirling  and 
hissing  up  on  high,  and,  far  and  near,  the  great  beacon 
was  warning  all  seers  that  the  fierce  Apache  was  out 
in  force  and  raiding  the  Yuma  road. 

Away  out  across  the  desert  its  red  glare  chased  the 
Concord  wagon  wherein,  all  unconscious  of  the  danger 
signal,  the  sisters  were  now  chatting  in  low  tone. 

"Drive  your  best,"  had  Harvey  muttered  to  his 
Mexican  Jehu,  as  he  leaned  out  of  the  saddle  to  reach 
his  ear.  "  Not  a  word  to  alarm  the  girls,"  he  cau- 
tioned his  companion,  "  but  be  ready  for  anything." 

Far  out  beyond  the  swaying,  bounding  vehicle ;  far 
out  across  the  blistered  plain,  the  glare  and  gleam  fell 
full  upon  the  brown  adobe  walls  at  Moreno's,  and  glit- 
tering eyes  and  swarthy  faces  peered  through  the  west- 
ward aperture,  while  out  in  the  corral  the  night  lights 
were  dancing  to  and  fro,  and  Feeny,  sore  perplexed,  but 
obedient  to  orders,  was  hurrying  the  preparations  of  his 
men.  Murphy's  wild  announcement  had  carried  con- 
viction to  the  major's  soul,  despite  all  Feeny's  plead- 


60  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

ings,  and  the  sight  of  that  beacon  furiously  burning,  the 
thought  of  those  helpless  women  being  borne  off  into 
the  horrors  of  captivity  among  the  Indians,  had  con- 
spired to  rouse  the  paymaster  to  unlooked-for  assertion 
of  himself  and  his  authority.  In  vain  had  Feeny 
begged  him  to  think  of  his  money,  to  remember  that 
outlaws  would  resort  to  any  trick  to  rob  him  of  his 
guard,  and  might  have  even  overpowered  Wing  and  his 
party  and  then  lighted  the  beacon.  The  chain  of 
evidence,  the  straight  story  told  by  his  morning  visitor, 
the  awful  news  contained  in  the  pencilled  note  brought 
in  by  Mullan,  were  considerations  too  potent  to  be 
slighted.  In  vain  did  Feeny  point  out  to  him  that  if 
Apaches  were  really  in  the  neighborhood  Wing  would 
not  be  content  with  starting  the  fire,  but  would  surely 
signal  whither  to  go  in  search  of  them,  and  that  no 
vestige  of  signal-torch  had  appeared.  Old  Plummer 
vowed  he  could  never  again  know  a  moment  of  peace 
if  he  neglected  to  do  anything  or  everything  in  his 
power  to  save  the  girls.  Most  reluctantly  he  agreed 
that  Feeny  should  remain  in  charge  of  the  safe  and  the 
two  drugged  and  helpless  men.  Murphy  and  all  the 
others  were  ordered  out  forthwith  to  march  rapidly 
northeastward  until  they  struck  the  trail  of  the  pur- 
suit and  then  to  follow  that.  In  fifteen  minutes,  with 
four  pack-mules  ambling  behind,  away  they  went  into 
the  darkness,  and  all  that  was  left  to  man  the  ranch  and 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  61 

defend  the  government  treasury  against  all  comers  was 
the  phlegmatic  but  determined  paymaster,  his  phys- 
ically wrecked  but  devoted  clerk,  Sergeant  Feeny, 
raging  at  heart  but  full  of  fight,  and  a  half-breed 
packer  named  Pedro ;  the  two  senseless  and  drunken 
troopers  were  of  course  of  no  use  to  anybody. 

Even  as  the  detachment  mounted,  Latham  with  it, 
old  Moreno  appeared  at  the  door-way  shrouded  in  his 
serape.  Approaching  Murphy  by  the  side  farthest 
from  Plummer  and  the  sergeant,  he  slipped  a  fat  can- 
teen from  under  his  cloak  and  thrust  it  into  the 
corporal's  ready  hand. 

"  Hush-h, — no  words,"  he  whispered.  "  All  is  well. 
I  keep  my  promise."  And  so  saying  he  had  slunk 
away ;  but  Feeny  was  on  the  off  side  quick  as  a  shot, 
quicker  than  the  corporal  could  stow  the  bulky  vessel 
in  his  saddle-bags.  Wresting  it  from  the  nerveless 
hand  of  his  junior,  Feeny  hurled  it  with  all  his  force 
after  the  Mexican's  retreating  form.  It  struck  Moreno 
square  in  the  back  of  the  neck  and  sent  him  pitching 
heavily  forward.  Only  by  catching  at  a  horse-post 
did  he  save  himself  from  a  fall,  but,  as  he  straightened 
up,  his  face  was  one  not  to  be  looked  at  without  a 
shudder ;  grinding  teeth,  snapping,  flashing  eyes,  venge- 
ful contortions  of  brow  and  jaw,  hate,  fury,  and  re- 
venge, all  were  quivering  with  the  muscles  under  that 
swarthy  skin,  and  the  gleaming  knife  was  clasped  in 

6 


62  FOES  JN  AMBUSH. 

his  upraised  hand  as,  driving  into  the  ranch  and  cut  of 
sight  of  the  hated  "  Gringos,"  he  burst  into  the  room 
where  sat  his  wife  and  daughter,  and  raging  aloud, 
through  that  he  leaped  like  a  panther  to  another  door, 
fastened  on  the  farther  side,  where  one  instant  he  stood 
before  admission  could  be  gained,  and  through  a  panel 
in  which  there  warily  peered  a  bearded  face,  swarthy  as 
his  own.  And  then  Seflora  Moreno  hurriedly  banged 
the  shutter  and  took  up  her  guitar.  Something  had  to 
be  done  to  hush  the  uproar  of  blasphemy  and  impreca- 
tion, mingling  with  the  shout  of  exultation  that  in- 
stantly followed  her  lord's  admission  to  the  den. 

Nine  o'clock  came.  Murphy  and  his  party  were 
gone.  The  beacon  still  blazed  at  the  westward  pass. 
The  twang  of  the  guitar  had  ceased.  Silence  reigned 
about  the  ranch.  Old  Plummer  with  anxious  face 
plodded  slowly  up  and  down  the  open  space  in  front 
of  the  deserted  bar.  Feeny,  with  three  loadecj  car- 
bines close  at  hand  and  his  belt  bristling  with  re- 
volvers, was  dividing  his  attention  between  the  safe 
and  the  still  sleeping  troopers.  Every  once  in  a  while 
he  would  station  the  major  at  the  safe,  which  had  been 
hauled  into  the  easternmost  of  the"  rooms  that  opened 
to  the  front  instead  of  on  the  corral,  and,  revolver  in 
hand,  would  patrol  the  premises,  never  failing  to  stop 
at  a  certain  window  behind  which  he  believed  Moreno 
to  be  lurking,  to  warn  that  impulsive  Greaser  not  to 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  63 

show  his  head  outside  his  room  if  he  didn't  want  it 
blown  off  his  shoulders ;  never  failing  on  his  return  to 
stir  up  both  recumbent  forms  with  angry  foot,  and 
then  to  shower  in  equal  portions  cold  water  aud  hot 
imprecations  upon  them.  To  Pedro  he  had  intrusted 
the  duty  of  caring  for  the  horses  of  his  prostrate  com- 
rades. Every  faculty  he  possessed  was  on  the  alert, 
watching  for  the  faintest  sign  of  treachery  or  hostility 
from  within,  listening  with  dread  but  stern  determi- 
nation for  the  first  sound  of  hoof-beats  from  without. 
It  must  have  been  about  ten  o'clock  when,  leaving 
Mr.  Dawes,  the  clerk,  seated  in  the  dark  interior  beside 
the  safe,  Feeny  stepped  forth  to  make  another  round, 
stopped  to  look  at  Mullan  and  his  partner,  now  begin- 
ning to  twitch  uneasily  and  moan  and  toss  in  their 
drunken  sleep,  and  then  turned  to  seek  the  pay- 
master. Whatsoever  lights  Moreno  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  burn  by  way  of  lure  or  encouragement  to 
belated  travellers,  all  was  gloom  to-night.  The  bar 
was  silence  and  darkness.  The  bare  east  room  adjoin- 
ing the  corral  was  tenanted  now  only  by  the  clerk  and 
the  precious  iron  box  of  "greenbacks."  No  glimmer  of 
lamp  showed  there.  The  westward  apartments,  open- 
ing only  one  into  another  and  thence  into  the  corral, 
were  still  as  the  night,  and  even  when  a  shutter  was 
slowly  pushed  from  within,  as  though  the  occupants 
craved  more  air,  no  gleam  of  light  came  through. 


64  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

"Don't  show  your  ugly  mug  out  here,  Moreno," 
cautioned  Feeny  for  the  fourth  or  fifth  time,  "and 
warn  any  damned  cut-throat  with  you  to  keep  in 
hiding.  The  man  who  attempts  to  come  out  gets  a 
bullet  through  him." 

There  had  been  shrill  protestation  in  Mexican 
Spanish  and  Seflora  Moreno's  strident  tones  when 
first  he  conveyed  his  orders  to  the  master  of  the 
ranch,  but  Moreno  himself  had  made  no  audible 
reply,  and,  as  was  conjectured,  had  enjoined  silence 
on  his  wife,  for  after  that  outbreak  she  spoke  no 
more. 

"  I've  got  this  approach  covered  anyhow,"  muttered 
the  veteran.  "  Now  if  I  only  had  men  to  watch  those 
doors  into  the  corral,  I  could  pen  Moreno  and  what- 
ever he  has  here  at  his  back.  It's  that  gang  of  hell- 
hounds we  passed  at  Ceralvo's  that  will  pay  us  a  call 
before  morning,  or  I'm  a  duffer." 

Once  again  he  found  the  paymaster  wearily,  anx- 
iously patrolling  his  self-assumed  post  out  beyond  the 
westward  wall.  The  presence  of  common  danger,  the 
staff  official's  forgetfulness  of  self  and  his  funds  in 
his  determination  to  aid  the  wretched  women  whom 
he  firmly  believed  to  have  been  run  off  by  the  Apaches, 
had  won  from  the  sergeant  the  tribute  of  more  respect- 
ful demeanor,  even  though  he  held  the  story  of  the 
raid  to  be  an  out-and-out  lie. 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  65 

"Any  signs  or  sounds  yet,  sir?"  he  questioned  in 
muffled  tone. 

"  Why,  I  thought — just  a  moment  ago — I  heard 
something  like  the  crack  of  a  whip  far  out  there  on 
the  plain." 

"  That's  mighty  strange,  sir ;  no  stage  is  due  coming 
east  until  to-morrow  night,  and  no  stage  would  dare 
pull  out  on  this  stretch  in  face  of  the  warning  there  at 
Picacho." 

"  Well,  it  may  have  been  imagination.  My  nerves 
are  all  unused  to  this  sort  of  thing.  How  do  you 
work  this  affair  when  you  want  to  reload,  sergeant? 
I'm  blessed  if  I  understand  it.  I  never  carried  a 
revolver  before  in  my  life." 

Feeny  took  the  glistening,  nickel-plated  Smith  & 
Wessen,  clicked  the  hammer  to  the  safety-notch,  tested 
the  cylinder  springs,  and,  touching  the  lever,  showed 
his  superior  by  the  feel  rather  than  sight  how  the  per- 
fect mechanism  was  made  to  turn  on  its  hinge  and 
thrust  the  emptied  shells  from  their  chamber. 

"  The  Lord  grant  we  may  have  no  call  to  shoot  to- 
night, sir,  but  I  misdoubt  the  whole  situation.  That 
fire's  beginning  to  wear  itself  out  already,  and  any 
minute  I  look  to  hear  the  hoof-beats  of  the  Morales 
gang,  surrounding  us  here  on  every  side.  If  they'll 
only  hold  off  till  towards  morning  and  I  can  brace  up 
these  two  poor  devils  they've  poisoned,  we  can  stand 
e  6* 


66  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

'em  off  a  while  until  our  fellows  begin  to  come  back  or 
Lieutenant  Drummoud  hears  of  the  gathering." 

"  And  do  you  still  believe  there  are  no  Apaches  in 
this  business?"  asked  the  major. 

"  Not  out  north  or  west,  sir ;  they're  thick  enough 
ahead  in  the  Santa  Maria,  but  not  to  the  north,  not  to 
the  west ;  I  can't  believe  that.  Those  Morales  fellows 
know  everything  that  is  going  on.  They  knew  that 
just  about  this  time  Ned  Harvey  was  expected  along 
escorting  his  sisters  home.  They  knew  you  had  never 
seen  him  and  could  easily  be  made  to  believe  the  story. 
Everything  has  been  done  to  hold  us  back,  first  at 
Ceralvo's  and  afterwards  here,  until  they  could  gather 

all  their  gang  in  force  sufficient  to  attack,  then 

Hist !  listen  !  There's  hoofs  now.  No,  not  out  there, 
the  other  way,  from  the  Tucson  road,  east.  God  grant 
it's  some  of  our  fellows  coming  back !  Keep  watch 
here,  major ;  I'll  run  out  and  challenge." 

Hastily  picking  up  a  carbine  as  he  passed  the  door, 
Feeny  ran  nimbly  out  across  the  sandy  barren,  disap- 
pearing in  the  darkness  to  the  southeast.  Old  Plum- 
mer's  heart  beat  like  a  hammer  as  he  listened  for  the 
hail.  A  moment  more  he  could  hear  hoof-beats  and 
the  voices  of  men  in  low  tones ;  then,  low-toned  too,  but 
sharp  and  stern,  Feeny's  challenge  rose  upon  the  night : 

"  Who  comes  there  ?" 

Instantly  the  invisible  party  halted,  surprised ;  but 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  67 

with  the  promptness  born  of  frontier  experience,  back 
came  the  answer : 

"Friends." 

"  Who  are  you,  and  where  from  ?" 

"  George  Harvey  and  party  from  Tucson,  looking 
for  Moreno's.     Who  are  you  ?" 

"  United  States  cavalry  on  escort  duty.  How  many 
in  your  party  ?" 

"  Only  two  here.  We  were  delayed  by  Apache 
signs  in  the  Santa  Maria.  The  rest  are  some  miles 
behind  with  relay  mules.  Are  we  near  the  ranch? 
What's  that  light  out  to  the  west?" 

"Never  mind  that  now.  Dismount  and  come  up 
alone,  Mr.  Harvey ;  I  must  recognize  you  first." 

Feeny  wanted  to  gain  time.  His  brain  was  whirl- 
ing. Here  was  partial  confirmation  of  the  story  told 
by  the  alleged  Ned  Harvey  in  the  morning.  Here 
was  the  father  coming  with  guard  and  relay  mules  to 
meet  his  children  just  as  their  morning  visitor  declared 
he  was  expected  to  do.  Was  it  possible  after  all  that 
the  tale  was  true, — that  the  children  were  there  at  the 
Gila,  making  wide  detour  around  Ceralvo's  and  taking 
the  northward  route  around  that  ill-favored  ranch? 
If  so,  what  awful  tidings  had  he  to  break  !  Stout 
soldier  that  he  was,  Feeny  felt  that  he  was  trembling 
from  head  to  foot.  Up  through  the  gloom  strode  a 
tall  figure,  fearless  and  confident. 


68  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

"There's  no  Irishman  in  all  the  Morales  gang," 
laughed  the  coming  man,  "  and  I  know  a  cavalryman's 
challenge  when  I  hear  it,  and  so  honor  it  at  once. 
Where  are  you,  sentry  ?" 

"Here;  this  way,"  answered  Feeny,  standing  erect 
and  peering  sharply  through  the  gloom.  "  I've  never 
met  you,  Mr.  Harvey,  but  we  all  know  you  by  repu- 
tation. Just  tell  me  your  business  and  how  you  hap- 
pen to  be  riding  the  desert  this  time  of  night  and  then 
I'll  tell  you  why  I  ask." 

"I  am  expecting  my  son  and  daughters  coming 
up  from  Yuma.  We  were  to  meet  at  Moreno's 
this  evening;  but  a  scouting-party  in  the  mountains 
warned  us  to  hide  until  night,  so  we're  late.  Have 
they  reached  Moreno's  ?     We  must  be  close  there." 

"  You're  close  enough  to  Moreno's ;  it's  not  a  hun- 
dred yards  back  there ;  but  that  light  across  the  valley 
is  the  warning  beacon  at  Picacho.  They  would  hardly 
venture  across  knowing  what  that  means." 

"  Why,  my  God,  man  !"  exclaimed  Harvey,  "  that 
says  the  Apaches  are  out  west  of  the  Santa  Maria  or 
the  Christobal.  Have  you  seen, — have  you  heard 
anything  of  them  ?" 

"For  the  love  of  God,  sir,  don't  ask  me  now. 
Come  to  the  ranch.  Major  Plummer's  there, — the 
paymaster.     He'll  tell  you  all  we  know." 

A  moment  more  and,  with  glaring  eyes,  with  ago- 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  69 

nized,  ashen  face,  the  Arizona  merchant  stood  at  the 
entrance  of  the  ranch,  clinging  to  the  horse-rail  for 
support,  listening  with  gasping  breath  to  Plummer's 
faltering  recital  of  the  events  of  the  morning. 

"Are  you  sure  it  was  my  son, — my  Ned?"  he 
moaned. 

"  I  never  saw  him  before,  Mr.  Harvey ;  but  some 
of  my  men  were  sure,  and  old  Moreno  here " 

The  wooden  shutter  behind  them  swung  open. 
From  the  inner  darkness  Moreno's  voice,  tremulous 
with  sympathy  and  distress,  fell  upon  their  ears. 

"Seflor  Harvey,  my  heart  bleeds  for  you.  I  saw 
him  but  an  instant,  but  it  was  he, — Sefior  Edward, 
your  son." 

"  God  of  heaven  !  and  your  men  have  gone,  all  of 
them?" 

"  All  but  Feeny  here." 

"  Northeast,  towards  the  Christobal  ?" 

"  Yes ;  but  stop  one  moment  now,  and  look  at  this 
note.  Is  it  your  son's  writing  ?"  And  Plummer  pro- 
duced the  crumpled  page  while  Feeny  held  the  light. 
Feverishly  Harvey  examined  the  scrawl,  his  hand 
trembling  so  hard  he  could  not  steady  the  paper. 

"  It  is  like  enough,"  he  moaned.  "  It  was  written  in 
such  mad  haste.  My  horse  !"  he  cried,  "  and  you  come 
with  me,  George.  Send  the  others  on  our  trail  as  soon 
as  they  get  in.     Give  me  another  pistol  if  you  can, — I 


70  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

have  but  one, — and  in  God's  name  order  along  the 
first  troops  that  reach  you." 

Then  in  less  than  a  minute  even  the  galloping  hoofs 
had  muffled  their  dull  thunder  in  the  darkness  and 
distance.  With  wild  dread  spurring  him  on,  the 
father  was  gone  to  the  rescue  of  his  children,  leaving 
old  Plummer  and  his  faithful  sergeant  shocked  and 
nerveless  at  the  ranch. 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  71 


IV. 

And  now,  with  such  confirmation  of  the  truth  of 
the  story  of  an  Apache  raid,  the  paymaster  thought 
it  only  right  to  release  Moreno  from  the  duress  in 
which  Sergeant  Feeny  had  placed  him.  When  so  old 
an  inhabitant  of  Arizona  as  Mr.  Harvey  gave  entire 
credence  to  the  report ;  recognized  the  note  as  really  his 
son's  handiwork  and  hastened  at  all  speed  to  overtake 
the  pursuers,  what  room  for  doubt  could  be  left  in  the 
mind  of  a  new-comer  to  the  soil?  It  was  time, 
thought  Plummer,  to  form  an  alliance,  offensive  and 
defensive,  with  the  Mexican  denizens  of  the  ranch 
against  the  enemy  common  to  both.  But  again  Feeny 
shook  his  head  in  solemn  protest. 

"I  may  have  been  wrong  as  to  the  Apaches,  sir, 
but  I  can't  be  mistaken  as  to  Moreno.  He's  in  the 
pay  of  the  Morales  brothers,  even  if  not  an  active 
member  of  the  gang.  He  is  lurking  in  there  now, 
I'll  warrant  you,  with  two  or  three  of  them  in  hiding, 
waiting  for  the  coming  of  the  main  body.  They'd  'a' 
been  here  before  this,  perhaps,  if  it  hadn't  been  for 
the  Apache  story.  They're  more  afraid  of  one  o.f 
Cochises's  band  than  of  all  the  sheriffs  from  Tucson  to 


72  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

Tacoma.  I  wish  the  rest  of  Harvey's  people  would 
get  here,"  he  continued,  looking  longingly  out  into 
the  darkness.  "  Unless  they  are  of  better  stuff  than 
most  of  these  mule-whackers  in  the  Territory,  you 
won't  catch  them  hustling  out  alone  trying  to  find 
their  master  this  night.  And  yet,  what  use  would 
they  be  to  us  ?" 

Plummer  turned  anxiously  away  and  gave  himself 
up  to  thought.  Nothing  but  a  faint  glimmer  now 
remained  of  the  beacon-light.  All  was  still  as  the 
grave  about  the  lonely  rancho.  Walking  over  to  the 
eastward  door  he  entered  the  dark  room,  and  was 
instantly  hailed  by  the  voice  of  his  clerk. 

"  You're  there,  are  you,  Dawes  ?"  he  asked.  "  Not 
getting  sleepy,  I  hope." 

"  Not  a  whit,  major ;  I  couldn't,  even  if  I  hadn't 
slept  most  of  the  day.  I'm  sitting  here  on  the  safe 
with  a  Colt's  six-shooter  in  each  hand.  If  old 
Moreno's  door  cracks,  by  gad  !  I'll  let  drive." 

"Well,  that's  all  right;  but  suppose  they  come 
around  through  the  corral  to  this  door  ?" 

"  I'm  ready.  I  came  within  an  ace  of  blazing  away 
at  you,  but  I  happened  to  recognize  your  figure  and 
step  just  in  the  nick  of  time." 

A  low  whistle  without  broke  up  the  colloquy. 
Plummer  waddled  off  in  the  direction  of  the  sound. 

"What  is  it,  sergeant?" 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  73 

"They're  coming,  sir.  Harvey's  men,  I  mean. 
"\^" i  1 1  you  deliver  his  message?" 

"  Just  as  you  say  ;  why  shouldn't  you  ?" 

"It'll  have  so  much  more  effect  from  your  lips, 
major.     They  may  misdoubt  me." 

Far  out  on  the  trail  the  quick-tripping  hoofs  of 
mules  could  now  be  heard.  Presently  a  horseman 
shot  up  out  of  the  gloom. 

"  Halt  there !"  sung  out  Feeny.  "  Whose  party's  this?" 

"Harvey's,  Tucson.  Looking  for  Moreno's.  Are 
we  near?" 

"  You're  there  now,  but  you  can't  stop.  Mr.  Har- 
vey wants  you  to  come  right  along  after  him.  He 
has  taken  the  trail  to  the  Christobal,  where  the  Indians 
have  carried  off  his  daughters." 

The  man  fairly  reeled  in  saddle,  shocked  at  the 
dreadful  tidings. 

"  When  ? — how  did  it  happen  ?  Who's  gone  with 
him  ?" 

"Some  time  this  morning,  from  all  we  can  learn. 
Two  squads  of  cavalry  are  on  the  trail,  one  with  Ned 
Harvey,  the  other  just  out  from  here  at  dark.  The 
old  man  and  George  followed  them  as  soon  as  they 
got  in.     Who's  with  you  ?" 

"  Two  Mexicans,  that's  all ;  they're  no  account. 
I'd  best  leave  them  here  with  the  mules.  They're 
just  behind  and  have  been  scared  to  death  already." 


74  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

And  so  in  ten  minutes  two  more  of  the  low-caste, 
half-breed  Mexicans  were  added  to  the  paymaster's 
garrison,  and  Sergeant  Feeny's  brief  exposition  of 
the  situation  at  the  ranch  only  delayed  the  incoming 
American  long  enough  to  water  his  horse  and  stow  a 
little  grain  in  a  sack. 

"I  wouldn't  wonder  a  damned  bit  if  the  Morales 
gang  were  around  here,"  was  his  discomforting  assur- 
ance. "  None  of  'em  have  been  seen  about  Tucson 
for  a  week  before  we  left.  Wish  I  could  stay  and 
stand  by  you,  but  my  first  duty  is  with  Mr.  Harvey. 
I've  been  in  his  employ  nigh  on  to  eight  years." 

"What  sort  of  looking  man  is  Ned  Harvey?" 
persisted  the  sergeant,  still  hopeful  of  some  fraud. 

"Tall,  dark,  smooth  face;  looks  like  a  Spaniard 
almost.  I  never  saw  anybody  who  resembled  him 
hereabouts.  I'm  afraid  it's  no  plant.  I  don't  want 
to  offend  you,  sergeant,  but  I  wish  to  God  it  was  all 
the  Morales  gang's  doings  and  that  it  was  only  your 
money  they  were  after.  If  it's  Apaches  and  they 
have  got  the  old  man's  children,  he'll  never  get 
over  it." 

"  By  heaven  !"  muttered  Feeny  to  himself,  as  the 
loyal  fellow  put  spurs  to  his  horse  and  disappeared,— 
"by  heaven!  I  begin  to  believe  it's  both." 

And  now  with  gloomy  face  the  sergeant  returned 
to  where  he  had  left  Major  Plummer  watching  the 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  75 

westward  trail.  A  brief  word  at  the  door-way  assured 
him  the  clerk  was  still  alert  and  ready.  A  pause 
under  the  open  window,  high  above  the  ground,  of 
the  room  where  slept  Moreno's  wife  and  daughter, 
if  they  slept  at  all,  told  him  that  all  was  silence  there 
if  not  slumber,  and  then  he  joined  his  superior. 

"That  fellow  was  of  the  right  sort,  sergeant," 
said  Plummer.  "I  wish  we  had  one  or  two  like 
him." 

"  I  wish  we  had,  sir ;  those  Greasers  are  worse  than 
no  guards  at  all.  They'll  sit  there  in  the  corral  and 
smoke  papellitos  by  the  hour,  and  brag  about  how 
they  fought  their  way  through  the  Apaches  with 
Harvey's  mules ;  but  for  our  purpose  they're  worse 
than  useless.  At  the  first  sign  of  an  attack  they'd  be 
stampeding  out  into  the  darkness,  and  that's  the  last 
we'd  see  of  them.  Heard  anything  further  out  this 
way,  sir?" 

"  Why,  confound  it !  yes.  I  try  to  convince  myself 
it's  only  imagination ;  but  two  or  three  times,  far  out 
there  towards  the  Picacho,  I've  heard  that  whip  crack- 
ing. I  have  felt  sure  there  was  a  hammering  sound, 
as  though  some  one  were  pounding  on  a  wagon-tire. 
Once  I  was  sure  I  heard  a  horse  snort.  That  I  was 
in  a  measure  expecting.  If  those  fellows  mean  to 
attack,  they'll  come  mounted,  of  course;  but  what 
wagon  would  they  have  ?" 


76  'FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

"  One  of  Ceralvo's,  perhaps,  to  cart  off  the  safe  in, 
if  they  couldn't  bust  into  it  here." 

"  There !  Hark  now,  sergeant !  didn't  you  hear  ?" 
suddenly  spoke  the  major,  throwing  up  a  warning 
hand. 

Both  men  held  their  breath,  listening  intently.  For 
a  moment  nothing  but  the  beating  of  their  own  hearts 
served  to  give  the  faintest  sound.  Then,  out  to  the 
west,  under  the  starlit  vault  of  the  heavens,  some- 
where in  that  black  expanse  of  desert,  plainly  and 
distinctly  there  rose  the  measured  sound  of  iron  or 
stone  beating  on  iron.  Whether  it  were  tire  or  linch- 
pin, hame  or  brake,  something  metallic  about  a  wagon 
or  buck-board  was  being  pounded  into  place  or  shape. 

"  It's  them,  sir,"  muttered  the  sergeant ;  "  it's  that 
bloody  gang,  for  there's  no  stage  due  to-night,  and  if 
it  was  Harvey's  ambulance,  recaptured,  'tis  from  the 
northeast  it  would  be  coming." 

"  Mightn't  they  have  missed  the  trail  in  the  dark- 
ness, and,  having  no  ranch  lights  to  guide  them,  got 
lost  somewhere  out  there  ?" 

"  Not  likely,  sir ;  shure  there'd  be  a  squad  of  the 
troop  and  half  a  dozen  old  hands  with  'em  if  it  was 
Harvey's.  This  has  come  from  the  pass,  and  it  won't 
be  long  before  they'll  be  coming  ahead.  You'll  need 
your  carbine  then.  Damn  that  man  Mullan  !  can't  I 
wake  him  yet?" 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  77 

Apparently  not ;  even  the  well-directed  kick  only- 
evoked  a  groan.  Taking  a  couple  of  carbines,  Feeny 
returned  to  the  major,  silently  handing  him  one  of 
the  weapons,  saying,  "  It's  loaded,  sir,  and  here's  more 
cartridges." 

Then  again  both  men  listened  intently. 

No  sound  now.  The  hammering  had  ceased.  One 
— two  minutes  they  waited,  then  nearer  at  hand  than 
before,  clear,  sharp,  and  distinct,  out  from  the  dark- 
ness came  the  unmistakable  crack  of  a  whip.  At  the 
sound  Feeny  knelt.  Click,  click  went  the  hammer 
of  his  carbine  to  full  cock.  Another  moment  of 
breathless  silence.  Then  the  muffled  sound  of  hoofs, 
the  creak  of  wagon-springs,  then  a  voice, — 

"  It  can't  be  far  away.  Ride  ahead  and  see  if  you 
can't  rout  somebody  out." 

And  then  Feeny's  challenge  again  rang  out  on 
the  still  night  air,  followed  instantly  by  muffled 
sound  of  stir  and  excitement  in  the  ranch  behind 
them. 

"  Who  comes  there  ?" 

"Hello!  What's  that?  Who's  that?  Is  that 
Moreno  ?" 

"  Who  comes  there,  I  say  ?    Halt !  or  I'll  fire." 

"  For  God's  sake  don't  fire,  man  ;  we've  got  ladies 
here." 

"  What  ladies  ?    Who  are  you  anyhow  ?    Quick !" 
7* 


78  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

"  George  Harvey's  daughters,  of  Tucson.  I'm  his 
son." 

"  God  be  praised  !"  shouted  Feeny,  springing  to  his 
feet  and  rushing  forward.  "  Are  they  all  safe  ? — un- 
harmed ?     Where  did  you  overtake  them  ?" 

"Overtake  who?  What  in  blazes  are  you  talking 
about  ?"  queried  a  tall,  slender  fellow,  bending  down 
from  his  saddle.     "  Who  are  you?" 

"Sergeant  Feeny,  of  the  cavalry, — and  here's  the 
major  just  back  of  me." 

"Major  who?" 

"Major  Plummer ;  him  you  was  talkiug  with  this 
morning  when  you  came  for  help,"  answered  Feeny, 
his  voice  tremulous  with  excitement.  Already  he  was 
beginning  to  see  light. 

"Why,  I've  never  seen  Major  Plummer  nor  any 
other  major  to-day.  The  only  troops  I  met  were 
Sergeant  Wing  and  his  guard  at  the  pass  just  after 
nightfall.  Have  you  met  the  Apaches?  You  saw 
the  signal,  of  course." 

"  Sigual,  yes,  but  devil  an  Apache.  Tell  me  now, 
wasn't  it  you  was  here  at  Moreno's  this  morning  beg- 
ging for  troops  to  go  and  fetch  your  ladies  down  from 
the  Gila  ?  Wasn't  it  you  sent  the  note  saying  they 
was  run  off  by  Indians  ?"  And,  as  was  the  case  when- 
ever excited,  Feeny's  grammar  ran  to  seed. 

(i  Not  a  bit  of  it.    My  sisters  are  here,  safe  and 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  79 

sound.  We'd  have  been  here  an  hour  ago  but  for 
slipping  a  tire.     Is  father  here  ?" 

"  Talk  to  him,  major ;  I'm  done  up  entirely,"  was 
all  poor  Feeny  could  say,  as,  between  relief,  rejoicing, 
and  the  inestimable  comfort  of  finding  he  was  right 
in  his  theories  after  all,  he  dropped  his  carbine,  threw 
himself  upon  the  soft,  sandy  ground,  and  fairly  rolled 
over  and  over  in  his  excitement  and  emotion. 

What  wondering  eyes, — what  startled  ears  were  at 
the  wagon  door-way,  as,  in  his  ponderous  manner,  the 
major  endeavored  to  tell  of  the  morning's  adventure 
and  the  counterfeit  presentment  of  the  Ned  Harvey 
now  before  him  !  Long  before  he  could  finish,  the 
thoughtful  son  begged  an  instant's  interruption. 

"  And  father  has  gone  on  the  trail  to  the  Christobal  ?" 

"  Yes,  an  hour  ago." 

"After  him,  Leon  !  Ride  like  the  devil,  even  if 
you  have  to  ride  all  night.  Fetch  him  back  here  as 
quick  as  you  can.  Tell  him  Fan  and  Ruth  are  safe 
here  at  Moreno's." 

In  ten  minutes  the  Concord  wagon  with  its  fair 
freight,  now  trembling  and  excited,  was  standing  side 
by  side  with  the  paymaster's  ambulance.  The  weary 
mules  were  unhitched  and,  with  the  saddle-horses,  led 
in  to  water.  The  major  and  the  sergeant,  prompting 
each  other,  went  on  with  their  recital,  Harvey  listening 
with  attentive  ear. 


80  FOES  JN  AMBUSH. 

"  It  is  one  of  the  most  perfect  plants  they  ever  put 
up,"  he  burst  in,  grinding  his  teeth  in  wrath.  "Of 
course  they  knew  of  father's  movements  and  of  mine. 
They  know  everything.  They  knew  we  were  to  meet 
here,  probably.  They  felt  assured  you  knew  nothing 
of  it  at  all.  They  have  used  our  supposed  peril  to 
draw  away  your  guard.  They  have  succeeded  even 
better  than  they  planned,  for  they  have  drawn  off 
father,  too,  and  four  of  our  best  men  into  the  bargain. 
But  to  think  that  this  old  scoundrel  Moreno  should  be 
in  it.  We've  always  suspected  the  Ceralvo  set ;  but 
father  has  done  everything  for  Moreno, — practically 
built  this  ranch  for  him,  dug  his  well,  set  him  up  in 
business,  and  now  he  makes  this  a  rendezvous  for 
thugs  and  assassins.  By  heaven  !  I'm  glad  you  have  him 
trapped.     How  many  has  he  with  him,  do  you  think  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.  I  only  feel  sure  he  must  have  one 
or  two,  but  it's  the  main  gang  we  have  to  watch," 
answered  Feeny;  "they  may  be  along  any  minute, 
and  I  thought  it  was  them  when  we  heard  you." 

"And  that's  what  is  worrying  me,  Mr.  Harvey," 
said  the  major,  as  he  drew  the  young  man  aside.  "  All 
they  are  after  now,  of  course,  is  my  safe  full  of  money. 
It  is  my  business  to  defend  it  to  the  last,  and  they 
can't  have  it  without  a  fight.  You  and  your  sisters, 
ordinarily,  they  would  not  molest,  but  by  this  time 
they  know  you  are  here.     Very  possibly  they've  fol- 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  81 

lowed  closely  on  your  trail  and  may  be  gathering  all 
around  us  at  this  moment.  Let  me  be  brief.  The 
sooner  you  can  hitch  in  those  mules  again,  or  those 
relay  mules  rather,  and  get  out  of  here,  the  better." 

"  Ah  !  but,  major,  how  about  the  Apaches  in  the 
Santa  Maria?  We  would  get  there, you  know,  just 
about  daybreak." 

"  By  Jupiter  !  I  never  thought  of  them.  You 
wouldn't  have  your  guard  now  that  your  father's 
gone  ?" 

"  No.  "We've  simply  got  to  stay  here,  major.  Per- 
sonally, I'm  only  too  glad  to  be  here  to  help  you  out 
It  cannot  be  long  before  the  troops  come  hurrying 
back  when  they  find  they've  been  tricked.  Very 
probably  they  have  found  it  out  by  this  time."  Then 
with  quick  decision  he  stepped  back  to  the  door  of 
the  Concord.  "Girls!  Paquita !  Ruthie !  tumble 
out,  both  of  you ;  we're  to  stay  here  at  Moreno's  to- 
night." And,  the  paymaster  aiding,  the  silent,  trem- 
bling sisters  were  lifted  from  the  wagon  and  led  away 
into  the  one  guest-room,  the  east  room,  where,  pistol 
in  hand,  still  sat  Dawes  on  the  safe.  The  wraps  and 
pillows  wrere  quickly  passed  in.  The  little  hurricane- 
lamp  was  stood  in  one  corner.  A  bundle  of  cavalry 
blankets,  left  behind  by  the  detachment  when  it  took 
the  trail,  was  spread  out  upon  the  earthen  floor.  The 
safe  was  hauled  into  the  empty  bar-room,  and,  bidding 
/ 


82  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

his  sisters  lie  down  and  fear  nothing,  assuring  them 
of  their  perfect  safety  there  and  urging  them  to  sleep 
all  they  could  against  their  move  at  dawn,  Edward 
Harvey,  looking  well  to  his  arms  and  bidding  his  two 
men  do  likewise,  came  forth  and  joined  his  soldier 
friends. 

"  There  are  five  of  us  now  against  Morales  and  hia 
outfit,  and  I'll  just  bet  my  horse  we  can  thrash  'em." 

"  Only  eleven  o'clock,"  muttered  old  Plummer,  as 
he  struck  a  match  and  consulted  his  watch.  "  It's  been 
the  longest  evening  I  ever  spent ;  but,  thank  God,  our 
worst  fears  are  at  an  end.  I  never  doubted  for  a 
moment  that  your  sisters  were  captives.  Who  could 
the  man  have  been  who  personated  you  ?" 

"I  don't  know.  I've  heard  of  him  once  before. 
He  is  about  my  height  and  build,  but  darker  they  say, 
and  with  more  of  Mexico  in  his  manner.  He  has 
been  to  Tucson,  but  I  never  heard  of  his  masquerading 
over  my  name  until  now,  though  I  have  heard  of  the 
resemblance.  He  must  have  copied  my  writing,  too, 
to  so  completely  fool  father." 

"  Oh,  that  was  a  mere  scrawl  on  soft  paper  with  a 
broad-pointed  pencil.  There  was  no  time  to  scrutinize 
it  closely,"  explained  the  major.  "Now,  Feeny, 
you're  officer  of  the  guard.  How  do  you  want  to  post 
us?" 

"It's  what  I've  been  thinking  of,  sir,  ever  since 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  83 

Mr.  Harvey  got  in,  and  we've  no  time  to  lose.  We 
can't  loop-hole  this  adobe  now,  but  we  can  barricade 
the  door  of  these  two  rooms  and  stand  off  a  good-sized 
gang.  Mr.  Harvey  will,  of  course,  want  to  be  where 
he  can  look  after  the  ladies ;  but  if  I  can  put  one  of 
his  men  in  the  corral,  one  who  can  be  relied  upon 
to  shoot  down  any  of  Moreno's  people  who  should 
try  to  come  out,  I  think  we  can  look  out  for  the  rest. 
Any  minute  now  they'll  be  coming.  First  thing,  run 
these  two  wagons  around  to  the  corral,  so  as  to  clear 
the  approaches.  There  mustn't  be  anything  behind 
which  they  can  hide  or  take  shelter."  And,  laying 
hold  of  the  pole  while  willing  hands  manned  the 
spokes,  Feeny  soon  had  the  Concord  and  the  weather- 
beaten  ambulance  safely  out  of  the  way.  Then  came 
a  moment  of  consultation  as  to  which  of  Harvey's 
men  would  be  best  suited  for  the  onerous  post  opposite 
the  enemy's  door,  and  then  a  sudden  and  breathless 
silence. 

"  Listen  !"  whispered  Feeny.  "  That's  a  signal. 
Hist !  you'll  hear  it  again  presently." 

Grasping  their  rifles  with  nervous  hands,  the  five 
men  stood  huddling  in  a  little  group  at  the  west  end 
of  the  low,  flat  building. 

Somewhere  out  on  the  dark  expanse  towards  the 
peak  a  long,  low  whistle,  ending  in  an  abrupt  high  note, 
had  sounded.     For  a  moment  there  was  no  repetition. 


84  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

The  invisible  foe  was  signalling  for  reply.  From 
whom  could  answer  be  expected  but  Moreno  ? 

"  Watch  the  old  scoundrel's  window  there  and  this 
shutter  over  here,"  whispered  the  sergeant,  indicating 
a  board  -covered  port  in  the  westward  wall.  "  They'll 
try  to  show  a  light,  perhaps.  Kun  round  into  the 
corral  and  smash  the  first  man  that  tries  to  come  out. 
I'll  tend  to  any  feller  that  shows  a  head  hereabouts." 

Harvey  turned  with  his  employe  and  ran  with  him 
as  far  as  the  other  end  of  the  ranch.  Here  he  entered 
the  low  door-way.  The  little  lamp  burned  dimly,  but 
two  pairs  of  dark,  dilated  eyes  gleamed  eagerly  upon 
him. 

"I'm  going  to  close  this  door  now,  girlies,"  he 
whispered.  "  Lie  still.  Do  not  venture  near  it  or  the 
window,  and  don't  be  frightened.  It  looks  as  though 
some  of  the  Morales  gang  were  around  here  hoping  to 
find  the  paymaster  unguarded.  We'll  give  them  a 
lesson  they'll  never  forget,  if  they  attempt  to  attack 
him." 

For  all  answer  Ruth  Harvey  only  nestled  closer  to 
her  sister  and  clung  to  her  for  courage  and  support. 
Paquita,  however,  became  Amazonian  at  once. 

"  Is  there  nothing  I  can  do,  Ned  ?  I  can't  bear  to 
lie  here  listening  and  taking  no  part.  Surely  I  could 
shoot  a  pistol  well  enough." 

"You  can  help  us  best  and  most  by  lying  flat  and 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  85 

showing  not  so  much  as  a  finger  at  the  door.  We 
can  tend  to  them,  Fan.  It  won't  be  long  before  father 
and  the  troop  come  galloping  back.  Don't  show  a 
light  now  unless  we  call."  Then  he  darted  to  the 
bar-room. 

"  Are  they  coming  ?"  hailed  the  clerk,  in  a  hoarse 
whisper. 

"  Somebody  signalled  out  on  the  plain.  It's  prob- 
ably they.  Look  out  for  Moreno  now  ;  don't  let  him 
or  anybody  through  that  door." 

Far  out  on  the  desert  again,  louder,  shriller,  clearer, 
the  whistle  was  repeated. 

"  Ah,  blow  and  be  damned  to  ye  !"  muttered  Feeny. 
"There's  no  answer  from  here  ye'll  get  this  night. 
Watch  out  now.  Some  of  'em  will  try  to  crawl  up 
after  a  little." 

But  nearly  five  minutes  passed  without  other  sign 
or  sound.  Then,  closer  in,  a  horse  stamped  and 
snorted;  a  coarse  Mexican  voice  muttered  a  savage 
oath.  Feeny,  crouching  low,  darted  into  the  darkness 
in  the  direction  of  the  sound.  Plummer  and  Harvey 
would  have  restrained  him,  but  it  was  too  late ;  he  was 
gone  before  either  could  speak.  Then  a  latch  creaked 
and  snapped  behind  them  and,  slowly  and  cautiously, 
the  wooden  shutter  began  to  open  outward.  In  an 
instant  Harvey  had  raised  his  rifle  and  struck  the  re- 
sounding board  a  fierce  blow  with  the  butt.    The  door 

8 


86  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

flew  back,  crashing  in  violent  contact  against  the  griz- 
zled pate  of  Moreno  himself,  who,  with  a  howl  of 
mingled  rage  and  anguish,  fell  back  from  the  aperture. 

"  Open  that  again  and  I'll  blow  your  head  off,  you 
scoundrel !"  growled  Harvey.  "  Don't  you  dare  show 
hair  nor  hide  outside  your  room.  Every  man  has 
orders  to  shoot  you  on  sight,  if  that's  any  comfort  to 
you." 

Only  for  a  second  had  the  old  Mexican's  head  ap- 
peared ;  only  an  instant  had  he  for  plea  or  protesta- 
tion, but  that  instant  had  served  to  show  a  narrow 
streak  of  light  from  the  room  within,  and  this  mere 
crack  revealed  to  the  watchful  eyes  out  upon  the 
plain  the  position  of  the  ranch,  possibly  told  them 
something  more,  for  in  less  than  half  a  minute  two 
horsemen  came  looming  up  out  of  the  darkness  and  can- 
tering fearlessly  towards  them.  Phlegmatic  as  he  was, 
old  Plummer's  nerves  gave  a  twitch  as,  sharp  and 
stern,  young  Harvey  challenged. 

"  Halt  there  !     Who  are  you  ?     Halt !  or  we  fire." 

"  Friends,"  shouted  one  voice ;  "  Americans,"  the 
other,  as  promptly  the  order  to  halt  was  obeyed,  the 
trained  horses  going  almost  on  their  haunches  under 
the  cruel  force  of  the  huge  Mexican  bit. 

"We  are  seeking  Moreno's,"  continued  the  first 
voice.  "  The  Apaches  jumped  our  outfit  just  after 
gunset  and  we  had  to  run  for  it." 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  87 

"  How  many  are  there  of  you  all  told  ?"  demanded 
Harvey. 

"  Only  us  two.  We're  partners,  prospecting, — been 
down  towards  the  Sonora  line.  For  the  Lord's  sake, 
gentlemen,  don't  keep  us  out  here.  We've  lost  every- 
thing we  had, — packs,  packers,  and  grub.  We're  about 
dead  beat  for  a  drink  and  something  to  eat." 

"What  do  you  think  of  this,  major?"  whispered 
Harvey.     "  Those  are  Americans  sure." 

"  Well,  I'd  let  'em  in,"  said  the  major ;  "  but  where 
the  devil's  Feeny?  He's  the  best  judge,  really. 
Their  story  may  be  all  true.     They  may  be  alone." 

"  I  don't  know ;  it  isn't  likely.  You  heard  that 
voice  out  there  a  moment  ago ;  that  was  Mexican  be- 
yond any  doubt.  We've  got  to  stand  those  fellows 
off  till  we  hear  from  Feeny."  Then,  raising  his  voice, 
Harvey  called, — 

"Just  stay  where  you  are  a  moment.  You're  all 
right  perhaps,  but  our  guards  have  orders  to  be  on 
the  lookout  for  Morales  and  his  gang,  and  you  might 
get  shot  by  mistake." 

"Well,  for  God's  sake  turn  out  your  men,  if 
you've  got  any,  and  help  us  catch  these  murdering 
thieves,"  was  the  impatient  reply.  "  How  many  are 
you  ?" 

"Oh,  there's  plenty  of  us  here,"  was  Harvey's 
cheery  answer.     "  Most  of  tOi  troop  j  but  we've  other 


88  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

business  on  hand  just  now.  You  wait  there  quietly 
for  a  minute  or  two  until  the  sergeant  conies  around 
with  the  patrol ;  he'll  see  to  you." 

And  then,  as  though  the  whole  thing  had  been 
planned  beforehand,  out  in  the  darkness  to  the  north 
Teeny's  voice  was  heard  in  low-toned  but  sharp  com- 
mand,— 

"  Patrol,  halt !  Close  up  there,  Kennedy.  "Where 
are  you,  Number  Five  ?"  And  so,  cool  and  confident 
as  though  he  had  a  dozen  troopers  at  his  back,  Teeny 
came  striding  up  to  the  spot. 

"  What's  the  matter,  sentry  ?  Didn't  I  hear  you 
parleying  here  with  somebody  ?" 

"  Two  strangers  out  there,  sergeant ; — say  they're 
prospectors  and  been  jumped  by  Apaches." 

"  Hwere  away  are  they  ?"  Then  in  low  tone,  "  Go 
you  out  beyond  the  corral,"  he  whispered  to  old  Plum- 
mer.  "There's  four  of  them  out  there.  Challenge 
if  they  try  to  come  in."  Then  aloud  again,  "  Shure, 
I  don't  see  anything,  sentry." 

"  Right  out  ahead  there,  sergeant.  Two  men, 
mounted." 

"  Come  down,  one  of  ye.  Dismount  and  come  in 
here.  Lave  your  gun  behind.  Give  your  reins  to 
your  pal  there,"  was  Feeny's  next  mandate. 

There  was  a  moment  of  hesitation,  a  faint  sound  of 
whispering  as  though  the  self-styled  prospectors  were 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  89 

in  consultation,  and  again  Feeny  spoke  in  tone  more 
sharp  and  imperative, — 

"  Dismount  one,  I  say.  Come  in  here,  or  I'll  send 
a  bullet  for  your  cards.     Quick  now." 

Still  another  delay.  The  "  prospectors"  seemed 
anxious  to  edge  off  into  deeper  darkness. 

"  If  ye're  not  off  that  horse's  back  in  ten  seconds, 
be  jabers,  I'll  fire,  so  be  lively."  And  as  his  excite- 
ment rose  so  did  Feeny's  Irish. 

Four — five  seconds  ticked  by  and  still  there  was  no 
approach.  Fiercely,  with  sharp  emphasis,  the  sergeant 
brought  his  carbine  to  full  cock.  "  It's  aiming  I  am," 
said  he,  as  he  quickly  raised  the  butt  to  his  shoulder. 
There  was  a  sudden  scurry  and  scramble  of  horses' 
hoofs,  low-voiced  words  of  warning  and  a  muttered 
curse  or  two.  Then  leaped  a  tongue  of  fire  into  the 
night,  and  from  the  corral  corner  came  sharp  report, 
followed  by  a  cry,  a  gurgle,  a  groan,  then  silence. 

"  My  God !  they've  shot  the  major,"  exclaimed 
Harvey,  as  he  leaped  away  in  the  direction  of  the 
shot.  At  the  same  moment  away  sped  the  two  horse- 
men in  front  of  the  post.  No  use  to  fire.  They  were 
shrouded  in  thick  darkness  and  out  of  harm's  way  be- 
fore one  could  pull  trigger.  Then  came  two  flashes, 
two  quick  reports,  then  half  a  dozen  rapid,  sputtering 
revolver-shots,  then  a  vengeful  howl  and  a  rush  out  on 
the  plain.     Feeny  ran  like  a  deer  on  the  trail  of  Mr. 

8* 


90  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

Harvey,  and  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it  they 
came  upon  the  paymaster,  sinking  shocked  and  nerve- 
less to  the  sandy  soil,  his  hands  clasping  on  his  side. 

"Pick  him  up,  you  and  your  man  there;  carry  him 
into  the  ranch.  I'll  bate  back  those  blackguards  yet," 
muttered  Feeny,  as  he  took  a  quick  snap  shot  at  some 
dim  object  flitting  across  the  plain  and  sent  another 
into  the  darkness,  aiming  vaguely  where  he  could  hear 
the  thud  of  horses'  hoofs.  For  a  moment,  running 
from  point  to  point  after  each  discharge,  he  kept  up  a 
rapid  fusillade,  under  cover  of  which  the  hapless  pay- 
master was  borne  swiftly  away  around  the  corner  of 
the  ranch  and  carried  into  the  bar,  where,  wild  with 
anxiety,  but  faithful  to  his  trust,  Mr.  Dawes  still 
guarded  the  safe.  Then  Harvey  stepped  through  the 
narrow  door-way  to  the  eastern  room. 

"I  have  to  borrow  the  lamp  a  moment,  Fan,"  he 
whispered.  "  Now  lie  still.  We  may  have  to  stand 
a  siege  awhile  until  father  can  reach  us." 

Two  minutes  more,  bending  low  and  with  his  last 
cartridge  crammed  into  the  chamber  of  his  carbine, 
Feeny  turned  to  make  a  run  for  the  ranch.  Just  as 
he  came  speeding  in  past  the  westward  wall  the  wooden 
shutter  was  hurled  open  and  a  strange  voice,  loud, 
exultant,  strident,  burst  upon  his  ear. 

"  Come  on,  Pasqual !    Come " 

But  the  rest  was  lost  in  the  roar  of  Feeny's  ready 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  91 

weapon.  The  rude  facade  of  adobe  blazed  red  one 
instant  in  the  flash  of  the  carbine  and  the  loud  report 
went  bellowing  out  across  the  plain.  But  within  the 
ranch  there  went  up  a  wail  of  terror  and  dismay,  for 
Ramon  Morales,  shot  through  the  brain,  was  stretched 
lifeless  at  the  feet  of  Moreno  and  his  shuddering  wife. 

And  then  Feeny,  unscathed,  leaped  inside  the  bar- 
room. 

"  Now  for  it,  men !  Drag  in  those  two  drunken 
brute  bastes,"  he  cried,  laying  hold  of  Mullan's  limp 
carcass.  "  Lug  in  wan  of  them  water-jars.  Stick 
their  damned  heads  into  that  trough  beyant.  Now  be 
lively.  The  whole  gang'li  be  on  us  in  less  than  a 
minute." 


92  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 


V. 

At  midnight  the  situation  at  Moreno's  ranch  was  a 
strange  one.  The  occupants  of  the  two  rooms  farthest 
to  the  east  were  being  besieged  by  ten  or  fifteen  out- 
lawed men,  some  Mexican,  some  "Gringo,"  but  all 
cut-throats,  and  up  to  this  moment  the  besieged  had 
had  the  best  of  it. 

And  yet  their  plight  was  desperate.  In  the  eastern- 
most room,  secure  from  bullet  or  missile  of  any  kind 
so  long  as  they  crouched  close  to  the  ground  and  back 
from  the  door- way,  lay  trembling  in  silence  old  Har- 
vey's daughters.  At  the  door,  only  the  barrel  of  his 
rifle  protruding,  keeping  under  cover  all  he  possibly 
could  behind  an  improvised  parapet  of  barley-bags, 
knelt  their  devoted  brother,  cool  and  determined,  every 
now  and  then  whispering  words  of  hope  and  encour- 
agement. In  the  adjoining  room,  connected  with  the 
eastern  chamber  by  a  doorless  aperture  through  the 
adobe  wall,  lay  the  paymaster,  sorely  wounded,  but 
still  conscious  and  plucky,  his  faithful  clerk  minister- 
ing to  him  as  best  he  could,  stanching  the  flow  of  blood 
and  comforting  him  with  cool  water.  At  the  door-way 
opening  on  the  hard-trampled  space  at  the  southern 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  93 

front  of  the  ranch,  sheltering  himself  behind  his 
breastwork  of  bailey,  but  never  relaxing  vigilant 
watch,  knelt  Sergeant  Feeny,  a  baudana  bound  about 
his  forehead,  the  blood  trickling  down  his  right  cheek, 
the  sleeve  of  his  flannel  shirt  rent  by  a  bullet  that  just 
grazed  the  upper  arm.  Kneeling  on  the  counter  and 
peeping  through  a  hole  in  the  bottom  of  the  wooden 
window-shutter,  one  of  Harvey's  men  kept  guard,  the 
other  faced  the  door-way  into  Moreno's  domestic  apart- 
ments, every  now  and  then  letting  drive  a  shot  through 
the  wood- work  to  keep  them,  as  he  said,  "  from  monkey- 
ing with  the  bolt  on  the  other  side."  In  planning  his 
roadside  ranch  Moreno  had  allowed  outer  doors  only 
to  those  rooms  which  were  for  public  use ;  the  three 
which  lay  to  the  west  of  the  bar  could  not  be  entered 
except  through  that  resort  or  by  a  door  giving  on  the 
corral,  both  of  these  doors  being  supplied  with  massive 
bolts  as  security  against  intruders,  and  all  three  rooms 
being  furnished  with  air-ports  rather  than  windows, 
pierced  at  such  a  height  through  the  adobe  that  no  one 
from  without,  except  in  saddle,  could  peer  through  the 
aperture  and  see  what  was  going  on  within.  The 
travellers'  room  and  the  bar-room  ports,  however,  were 
low  and  large,  and  all  the  rooms  were  spacious ;  the  bar, 
of  course,  being  the  dining-  as  well  as  drinking- room, 
carried  off  the  honors  in  point  of  size.  This,  too,  was 
furnished  with  an  opening  into  the  corral,  but  Feeny'a 


94  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

first  thought  on  reaching  his  comrades  was  to  barricade. 
Springing  into  the  walled  enclosure  and  bidding  Har- 
vey watch  while  the  others  worked,  he  had  soon  suc- 
ceeded in  lugging  a  score  of  big  barley-sacks  into  the 
interior  and  piling  them  into  breastworks  at  the  three 
doors,  the  one  opening  into  the  corral  being  provided 
in  addition  with  a  high  "  traverse"  to  protect  its  guard 
against  shots  that  might  come  through  from  Moreno's 
room.  All  this  was  accomplished  amidst  the  wailing 
of  the  Mexican  women  and  the  fusillade  begun  by  the 
assailants  in  hopes  of  terrorizing  the  defence  before 
venturing  to  closer  quarters.  Like  famous  Croghan, 
of  Fort  Stephenson,  Feeny  had  kept  up  a  fire  from  so 
many  different  points  as  to  impress  the  enemy  with  the 
idea  there  were  a  dozen  men  and  a  dozen  guns  where 
there  was  in  reality  only  one,  and  even  the  temptation 
of  that  vast  sum  in  the  paymaster's  safe  was  not 
sufficient  to  nerve  the  followers  of  Morales  to  instant 
attack.  The  valor  and  vigor  of  the  defence  and  the 
appalling  death  of  one  of  their  leaders  had  so  un- 
nerved them  that  Pasqual  himself,  raging,  imploring, 
threatening  by  turns,  was  unable  to  urge  them  to  close 
quarters.  "  Most  men  are  cowards  in  the  dark"  is  a 
theory  widely  believed  in.  Indians  certainly,  are  only 
brave  against  defenceless  women  and  children  at  such 
a  time.  Not  until  the  firing  had  ceased  and  it  was 
evident  that  the  defenders  had  retired  to  the  shelter 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  95 

of  the  ranch,  and  then  only  very  slowly  and  cautiously, 
would  these  brigands  of  the  desert  be  induced  to  re- 
sume their  stealthy  approach.  For  full  half  an  hour 
there  was  a  lull  in  the  fight,  and  then,  guided  by  the 
light  Moreno  was  now  able  to  show,  Pasqual  and  two 
of  the  stouter-hearted  knaves  approached  the  western 
wall  and  held  brief  consultation  with  the  rascally 
owner.  Rage  at  the  death  of  their  leader's  brother 
and  ally,  the  thirst  for  vengeance,  and  the  hope  of 
securing  such  rich  booty,  all  were  augmented  by  Mo- 
reno's fiery  assurances  and  encouragement.  All  the 
soldiers  were  gone,  he  said,  except  the  "  pig  of  a  ser- 
geant" and  two  drugged  and  senseless  swine.  Some- 
body among  them  was  wounded.  There  were  only 
three,  possibly  four,  left.  Let  his  companeros  make 
combined  attack,  two  or  three  through  his  (Moreno's) 
rooms,  two  or  three  rush  in  from  the  corral,  and  the 
same  number  from  the  south  front  at  once,  and  beyond 
doubt  the  cursed  Yankees  would  succumb.  Then,  no 
quarter,  no  quarter  for  the  men.  His  connection  with 
the  outlaw  band  was  now  known  and  these  witnesses 
must  be  put  to  death.  Then — then  the  paymaster's  safe 
could  readily  be  battered  open,  then  there  was  the  mint 
of  money  to  be  divided  among  the  victors,  then  away 
to  Sonora  with  their  spoil  and  with  old  Harvey's 
beautiful  daughters.  What  ransom  would  he  not  be 
willing  to  pay, — that  proud,  disdainful  father !    Was 


96  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

ever  luck  so  great  ?     But  haste  !  haste ! — not  a  mo- 
ment could  be  lost ;  they  must  act  at  once. 

And  so  Morales  hurried  to  station  and  instruct  his 
men.  Prowling  like  coyotes  through  the  darkness 
and  at  respectful  distance  from  the  guarded  end  of  the 
ranch,  half  a  dozen  of  the  number  crept  into  the 
corral.  Others  were  distributed  over  the  southern 
front.  Three  of  the  lighter  and  more  slender  of  the 
band  were  "  boosted"  through  the  high  west  window  into 
Moreno's  domain.  Then  through  the  middle  room 
they  made  their  way,  where  sat  the  sefiora,  rocking, 
weeping,  and  moaning  over  the  body  of  the  outlaw 
leader,  where,  hiding  under  the  bed,  shivering  and 
praying,  crouched  the  sefiorita,  her  daughter,  and  then, 
barefooted,  they  crept  into  the  room  adjoining  the  bar 
and  listened,  breathless,  to  the  low-toned  instructions 
of  the  veteran  sergeant.  From  without  no  glimmer 
of  light  could  guide  the  assailants  or  help  them  in 
their  aim.  The  black  apertures  of  the  door-ways  were 
poor  marks  for  night  shooting,  and  the  more  enter- 
prising and  adventurous,  crawling  like  snakes  to  rec- 
onnoitre, were  soon  able  to  report  that  most  scientifi- 
cally had  the  defence  thrown  up  their  breastworks. 
From  group  to  group  flitted  Pasqual.  At  his  shrill 
battle-cry  all  hands  were  to  rush  simultaneously  to  the 
attack,  firing  no  shot  for  fear  of  hitting  one  another  ; 
but  with  pistol  in  one  hand  and  the  long,  deadly  knife 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  97 

in  the  other,  close  at  once  upon  the  defenders,  leap 
over  their  barriers  and  overwhelm  them  in  the  dark 
interior.  In  three  minutes  the  signal  would  be  given. 
He  himself  would  lead  the  dash  of  the  party  within 
the  corral.  Pasqual  was  shrewd  enough  to  know  that 
where  there  was  only  one  door- way  instead  of  two  there 
would  be  better  chance  of  dodging  the  bullets.  But 
keen  eyes  and  ears  and  wits  were  there  alert.  Feeny 
and  Harvey  well  knew  that  this  was  but  the  lull  be- 
fore the  storm. 

"  Lay  low,  boys,  and  be  ready.  Shoot  the  first  man 
that  shows,"  was  the  last  caution  old  Plummer  heard 
before  the  bursting  of  the  tempest. 

All  on  a  sudden  a  wild  cry  went  up  in  the  corral. 
All  on  a  sudden  from  north  and  south  the  assailants 
dashed  forward  with  answering  yell.  In  an  instant 
the  dark  apertures  flashed  their  lightning,  and  rifle-  and 
revolver-shots  rang  on  the  still  night  air.  Harvey's 
Henry  barked  like  a  Gatling  ;  Feeny's  old  Springfield 
banged  like  a  six-pounder.  Two  of  the  assailants  on 
the  south  side  went  down  in  the  dust,  face  foremost, 
the  others  swerved,  broke,  and  scurried  for  shelter. 
Pasqual  Morales,  leading  his  men  close  under  the  north 
wall,  made  a  panther-like  spring  for  the  crest  of  the 
barley  parapet,  and  was  saved  from  instant  death  when 
he  fell  by  being  dragged  feet  foremost,  with  a  Colt's 
forty-four  tearing  through  his  thigh.  In  vain  Moreno's 
k       g  9 


98  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

squad  fired  shot  after  shot  through  the  wooden  door; 
their  bullets  buried  themselves  deep  in  the  improvised 
traverse  but  let  no  drop  of  blood,  while  two  return 
shots  scattered  the  attack  with  the  splinters  from  the 
heavy  panels.  Pleading,  raging,  maddened,  Morales 
learned  that  the  dash  had  failed,  and  that  two  of  his 
most  daring  meu,  the  two  Americanos  who  had  ridden 
forward  to  personate  prospectors  and  who  had  led  the 
rush  in  the  southern  front,  were  knocked  out  of  the 
fight. 

And  then  it  was  that  the  inhuman  brute  gave  the 
order  to  resort  to  Indian  methods,  and  even  old  Mo- 
reno begged  and  prayed  and  blasphemed  all  to  no 
purpose.  Furious  at  their  repulse,  the  band  were 
ready  to  obey  their  leader's  maddest  wish.  The  word 
was  "  Burn  them  out."  Ned  Harvey,  crouching  be- 
hind his  barley-bags,  felt  his  blood  turn  to  ice  water  in 
his  veins  when,  with  exultant  yells  and  taunts,  the 
corral  suddenly  lighted  up  with  a  broad  red  glare. 
The  match  had  been  applied  to  the  big  hay-stack 
close  to  the  brush-covered  shed,  close  to  the  "  leanto" 
under  which  so  much  inflammable  rubbish  was  stored. 
It  could  be  a  question  of  only  a  few  moments,  then 
they,  too,  would  be  a  mass  of  flames  spreading  rapidly 
westward.  The  stout  adobe  wall  separating  the  ranch 
proper  from  the  sheds  would  protect  the  occupants 
from  direct  contact  with  the  flame,  but  what  could 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  99 

save  the  roof?  Stretching  from  wall  to  wall  were  the 
dry,  resinous  pine  logs  that  formed  the  basis  of  the 
bulky  structure ;  over  these  the  lighter  boards  of  pine ; 
and  over  all,  thickly  piled,  dry  as  bone  and  inflamma- 
ble as  tinder,  heap  on  heap  of  brush.  Once  this  was 
fairly  ablaze  the  hapless  occupants  of  the  rooms  be- 
neath might  as  well  be  under  the  grating  of  some 
huge  furnace. 

High  in  air  shot  the  leaping  flames.  Far  and  wide 
over  the  desert  spread  the  lurid  glare.  Screaming 
with  terror,  the  women  of  Moreno's  household  were 
already  dragging  into  the  corral  their  few  treasures 
and  rushing  back  for  such  raiment  as  they  could  save. 
Far  over  at  the  corral  gate,  where  the  bullets  of  the 
besieged  could  not  find  them,  Pasqual  Morales  and  his 
exulting  band  were  gathered,  the  chief  lying  upon  his 
seraph  with  bloody  bandages  about  his  leg,  his  fol- 
lowers dancing  about  him  in  frantic  glee,  all  keeping 
carefully  out  of  range  of  the  black  door-ways,  yet 
three  or  four  crack  shots  lay  flat  in  the  sands,  their 
rifles  covering  the  now  glaring  fronts  of  the  threatened 
raucho,  ready  to  shoot  down,  Indian-like,  the  wretched 
garrison  when  driven  out. 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  from  somewhere  in  th« 
middle  room  behind  Moreno's  heavy  door  a  voice  was 
heard. 

"  Hand  out  the  safe.     Hand  out  your  money  now 


100  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

and  we'll  leave  you  in  peace.  Every  man  of  us  will 
ride  away,  and  you  can  come  out  as  soon  as  we  are 
gone.     Answer,  for  you  have  no  time  to  lose." 

"  Answer  him,  you  !"  shouted  Feeny  to  Mr.  Dawes. 
(t  Send  a  shot  through  and  hit  him  if  you  can." 

Bat  before  the  clerk  could  drop  the  fan  with  which 
he  was  striving  to  revive  his  fainting  chief,  the  young 
fellow  from  Harvey's  party,  he  who  was  stationed  at 
the  north  door  and  had  been  so  fortunate  as  to  shoot 
Morales  himself,  now  suddenly  sprang  from  his  covert 
and,  placing  the  muzzle  of  his  Henry  rifle  close  to  the 
door,  deliberately  popped  three  shots  in  quick  succes- 
sion through  the  splintering  wood-work,  and,  in  the 
confusion  and  dismay  which  resulted,  was  able  to  leap 
nimbly  into  his  corner  again  before  the  answering 
shots  could  come. 

"  Take  that  for  your  answer,"  shouted  Feeny  again, 
"  you  black-hearted,  black-bellied  thafe,  and  take  this, 
too,  bad  scran  to  ye  !  Every  dollar  of  that  money's 
in  greenbacks  that'll  burn  as  aisy  as  tissue,  and  if  you 
want  it,  come  and  get  it  now.  'Tis  you  that's  got  no 
time  to  lose.  Come  and  get  it,  I  say,  for  be  the  soul 
of  St.  Patrick  you'll  never  have  another  chance.  Just 
as  sure  as  ye  let  that  fire  reach  this  ranch  and  harm 
those  young  leddies, — old  Harvey's  daughters  that 
never  did  ye  a  harm  in  the  world, — every  dollar  in  the 
pafe  goes  whack  into  the  fire,  and  sorra  a  shinplaster 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  101 

will  you  have  for  all  your  pains.  Ain't  that  so,  pay- 
master? Shure  the  government  ought  to  be  mighty 
glad  of  the  chance  of  saving  all  those  promises  to  pay." 

"  Bravo,  Feeny  !"  shouted  young  Harvey  from  the 
adjoining  room.  "  We're  not  smoked  out  yet  by  a 
good  deal,"  he  added  in  lower  tone.  "  But  if  the 
worst  comes  to  the  worst  we  can  make  a  rush  for  the 
barley-stack  in  the  corral.  Lie  still,  Ruth,  little 
sister ;  it  won't  be  any  time  now  before  the  soldiers 
will  come  galloping  to  us."  And,  hiding  her  terror- 
stricken  face  in  her  sister's  breast,  the  girl  obeyed. 

Out  at  the  corral  gate  meantime  a  vehement  council 
was  being  held.  Feeny's  bold  defiance  and  threat  had 
produced  their  effect.  His  voice  had  rung  out  above 
the  roar  of  the  flames,  and  what  Morales  could  not 
hear  was  promptly  reported  by  those  who  had  crawled 
up  nearer  to  the  bar  and  could  understand  every  word. 
Even  hampered  by  the  care  of  their  helpless  women, 
the  defence  was  undismayed  ;  the  little  garrison  was 
fighting  with  magnificent  hope  and  courage.  Beyond 
the  wounding  of  one  of  their  number,  no  impression 
apparently  had  been  made,  whereas  the  bandits  had  a 
sorry  loss  to  contemplate.  Ramon  shot  dead,  Pasqual 
crippled,  and  the  two  "  Gringos,"  the  daring  and  en- 
terprising leaders  of  the  attack,  painfully  wounded, 
one  probably  mortally  so.  And  now  with  the  flames 
lighting  up  the  whole  valley  between  the  Picacho  and 

9* 


102  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

the  Christobal,  with  cavalry  known  to  be  out  in 
several  squads  within  easy  march,  some  of  the  men 
were  already  weakening.  They  had  had  enough  of  it 
and  were  quite  ready  to  slink  away  ;  but  Pasqual  was 
a  raging  lion.  Revenge  for  the  death  of  his  brother, 
wrath  over  his  own  crippled  condition,  fury  at  the 
failure  of  the  assault,  and  hatred  on  general  principles 
of  all  honest  means  and  honest  men,  all  prompted  him 
to  order  and  enforce  a  renewal  of  the  attack,  all  served 
to  madden  him  to  such  a  degree  that  even  burning  his 
adversaries  to  death  seemed  simply  a  case  of  serving 
them  right.  What  cared  he  that  two  of  the  besieged 
were  fair  young  girls,  non-combatants  ?  They  were 
George  Harvey's  daughters,  and  that  in  itself  was 
enough  to  bring  balm  to  his  soul  and  well-nigh  cause 
him  to  forget  his  physical  ills.  One  or  two  of  the 
band  strove  to  point  out  that  the  faintest  indignity 
offered  to  the  sisters  would  array  not  only  all  Arizona, 
but  all  Mexico  against  them.  Like  dogs  they  would 
be  hunted  to  their  holes  and  no  quarter  be  given.  Re- 
turning hitherto  with  their  spoils,  Chihuahua  or  Sonora 
had  welcomed  them  with  open  arms ;  but  what  out- 
law could  find  refuge  in  Mexican  soil  who  had  dared 
to  wrong  the  children  of  George  Harvey  and  Inez 
Romero?  It  was  even  as  they  were  pointing  this  out 
to  Pasqual  and  urging  that  he  consent  to  be  lifted  into 
the  ambulance  and  driven  away  southward  before  the 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  103 

return  of  the  cavalry,  that  Moreno  himself  appeared. 
Slipping  out  of  his  western  window,  dropping  to  the 
ground  and  making  complete  circuit  of  the  corral, 
he  suddenly  joined  in  the  excited  conference.  What 
he  said  was  in  Spanish,  or  that  pan-Arizona  patois 
that  there  passes  current  for  such,  and  was  a  wild, 
fervid  appeal.  They  had  ruined  him,  him  and  his. 
He  was  unmasked,  betrayed,  for  now  his  connection 
with  the  band  was  established  beyond  all  question ; 
now  he  was  known  and  would  soon  be  branded  as 
an  outlaw.  His  home  was  being  destroyed  before  his 
eyes, — not  that  that  amounted  to  much  now  that  he 
could  no  longer  occupy  it, — his  wife  and  child  must  flee 
at  once  for  Sonora  aud  he  go  with  them,  but  recom- 
pense for  his  loss  he  must  have ;  never  again  could  he 
venture  into  Arizona :  he  would  be  known  far  and 
wide  as  the  betrayer  of  his  benefactor's  children, 
though  he  called  God  and  all  the  saints  in  the  Spanish 
calendar  to  witness  he  never  dreamed  of  their  being 
involved  in  his  plot.  The  paymaster's  funds,  not  the 
lives  of  any  of  the  paymaster's  men,  were  what  he  had 
sought  to  take,  and  now,  there  lay  the  dollars  almost 
within  their  grasp,  but  unless  captured  at  once  would 
be  gone  forever. 

"  I  know  that  pig  of  a  sergeant, — may  the  flames  of 
hell  envelop  him  for  all  eternity  !"  he  cried.  "  He 
will  not  scruple  to  do  as  he  says.     He  will  cast  every 


104  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

package  into  the  seething  furnace.  Ji7ra  /  Look ;  the 
shed  is  now  all  ablaze.  In  one  minute  the  roof  of  the 
rancho  will  burst  into  flame.  There  is  not  an  instant 
to  lose.  I  adjure  you  let  the  daughters  of  Harvey, 
the  son,  the  men  come  out  at  once ;  swear  to  them 
safety,  honor,  protection.  Let  them  go  their  way  now, 
now.  Then  you  will  have  to  deal  with  only  two  or  three, 
and  the  treasure  is  ours.  Look  you,  Sanchez,  Pedro, 
Jos6,  down  with  that  shed  next  the  rancho !  hurl  it, 
drag  it  down  so  that  its  fire  cannot  reach  the  brush  be- 
yond, then  we  can  parley,  we  can  win  their  ear.  They 
will  be  but  too  glad  to  be  spared  to  go  on  their  way  un- 
harmed. Yonder  are  their  mules  across  the  corral. 
Hitch  them  in  at  once.  Save  the  others  for  the  ambu- 
lance and  the  buck-board  here,  and  for  our  noble  chief. 
Is  it  not  so,  capitan  ?     Am  I  not  right  ?" 

Approving  murmurs  followed  his  fiery  words.  So 
long  as  the  Yankees  held  together  there  was  little 
likelihood  of  the  outlaws  gaining  the  ground  except  by 
burning  out,  and  that  now  meant  the  destruction  of  the 
very  money  they  were  after,  the  utter  loss  of  the  for- 
tune that,  divided  even  among  so  many,  would  enable 
them  to  live  like  princes  in  Hermosillo  or  beyond. 
They  would  be  heroes,  conquerors.  But  if  that  were 
lost  after  all  their  plotting,  planning,  labor,  and  crime, 
there  was  absolutely  no  recompense.  Even  through 
the  brain-clouding  fury  of  his  revenge  Pasqual  Morales 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  105 

saw  the  sound  sense  of  Moreno's  plea.  He  made  no 
effort  to  check  the  men  who  ran  to  do  his  bidding  and 
were  even  now  with  lariats  and  stalwart  arms  dragging 
the  props  from  under  the  shed  and  letting  its  western 
end  come  pattering  down.  Within  the  eastern  room 
the  dense  smoke  was  already  finding  its  way.  The 
sound  of  falling  beams  and  timber  only  conveyed  to 
the  occupants  the  idea  that  already  the  shed  was  in 
embers,  and  that  any  instant  the  roof  over  their  heads 
would  burst  into  a  torrent  of  fire.  Ned  Harvey's 
brave  spirit  was  taxed  to  the  utmost.  Unless  relief 
could  come  and  come  at  once,  nothing  remained  for 
him  but  death,  nothing  for  those  fair  sisters  but  a  fate 
far  worse. 

At  one  instant  he  was  on  the  point  of  urging  the 
paymaster  to  comply  with  the  outlaws'  demand,  pledg- 
ing himself  and  his  father's  fortune  to  make  good  to 
the  government  every  cent  so  sacrificed.  His  father 
could  pay  it  four  times  over,  and  would  rather  sink  his 
last  cent  than  that  the  faintest  harm  should  come  to 
those  beloved  children ;  but  the  next  moment  Feeny's 
splendid  defiance  had  so  thrilled  him  that  he  could  not 
frame  the  words  he  thought  to  speak,  and  yet,  here 
was  awful  peril  close  at  hand.  What  right  had  he  to 
further  jeopard  the  life,  the  honor,  of  these,  his  father's 
fondest  treasures  ?  If  it  were  only  himself  it  would 
be  stay  and  fight  it  out  to  the  bitter  end.     But  if  the 


106  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

robbers  could  now  be  content  with  the  money  alone 
and  pledge  safeguard  for  the  party,  was  it  not  his  duty, 
would  it  not  be  his  father's  mandate  were  he  there, 
to  buy  the  safe  and  contents  from  the  agent  of  the 
general  government  and  pay  the  ransom  levied  ? 

But  he  little  dreamed  of  the  fury  of  revenge  and 
hatred  burning  in  the  soul  of  Pasqual  Morales.  He 
little  fathomed  the  treachery  and  cunning  of  the  out- 
lawed scoundrel.  Even  as  he  was  revolving  these 
thoughts  in  mind,  ever  and  again  listening  with  new 
hope  for  the  sound  of  rallying  trumpet,  the  beat  of 
rescuing  hoofs,  there  resounded  through  the  night  the 
sonorous  and  ringing  voice  that  so  short  a  time  before 
had  called  for  the  surrender  of  the  safe. 

"  Edward  Harvey,  we  pledge  safe-conduct  for  you, 
your  sisters,  and  your  party.  Here  is  your  wagon 
ready,  your  team  hitched  in.  Throw  your  arms  out 
of  the  door.  Come  forth  as  you  please.  Put  the 
sefloritas  in  the  wagon.  Look  neither  to  the  right  nor 
left,  but  drive  away,  and  God  be  with  you.  We  have 
no  quarrel  with  you  and  yours.  We  war  only  with 
these  soldiers  who  have  killed  our  chief." 

Put  yourself  in  his  place.  Death  for  him,  perhaps 
for  them, — dishonor  anyway, — was  all  they  could  look 
for  if  no  rescue  came.  Was  it  not  his  duty  to  his 
parents,  to  his  sisters,  even  to  God,  to  accept  these 
terms, — to  withdraw  his  little  force  ?     Why  should  he 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  107 

be  perilling  such  precious  lives  and  names  in  the 
defence  of  a  government  official  who  had  been  so  reck- 
less as  to  part  with  his  guard  and  put  himself  and  his 
funds  in  such  a  predicament  ?  From  the  other  room 
in  which  the  major  now  lay,  feebly  moaning,  no  word 
of  remonstrance  came.  Even  in  their  extremity,  then, 
the  soldiers  of  the  government  would  not  urge  that  he 
stay  and  encounter  further  peril  in  their  defence.  One 
of  the  drugged  troopers  was  beginning  to  regain  some 
atom  of  sense,  and,  sitting  up,  was  miserably  asking 
what  had  happened,  what  was  the  matter  now. 

"  Go  and  douse  water  over  your  damned  worthless 
head,  Mullan,"  he  heard  the  sergeant  say,  so  Feeny 
was  evidently  alert  as  ever  and  must  have  heard  the 
proposition  from  without.  At  his  feet,  huddled  close 
to  the  floor  where  the  thick  smoke  was  least  distressing, 
Fanny  and  Ruth  still  clung  to  one  another,  the  latter 
trembling  at  the  sound  of  the  voice  from  without. 
But  Fanny  had  quickly,  eagerly,  raised  her  head  to 
listen.  For  a  moment  no  reply  was  made.  Then 
came  the  impatient  query, — 

"  Harvey,  do  you  hear  ?  You  have  no  time  to  lose. 
You  have  but  a  minute  in  which  to  answer." 

*  Major,"  he  burst  forth  at  last  in  an  agony  of  doubt. 
"  you  hear  what  they  say,  you  see  how  I  am  fixed.  If 
I  were  here  alone  you  would  never  need  to  ask  my 
services,  I'd   fight  with  you  to  the  bitter  end;  but 


108  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

think  of  my  father, — my  mother  if  anything  befall 
my  sisters.     Can  nothing  be  done?" 

From  the  lips  of  the  stricken  paymaster  there  came 
only  a  groan  in  reply. 

"I  fear  he  cannot  hold  out  long,  Mr.  Harvey," 
muttered  the  clerk.  "  I  doubt  if  he  heard  or  under- 
stood you." 

"  Well,  why  not  let  them  have  the  safe  if  they'll 
guarantee  that  that  is  all  they  want?  How  much 
have  you  there  ?  I  feel  sure  my  father  would  make  it 
good." 

"There's  over  twenty-five  thousand  dollars,  Mr. 
Harvey." 

"  Well,  if  it  was  only  twenty-five  cents,  Mr.  Ned 
Harvey,  all  I've  got  to  say  is,  devil  a  wan  of  them 
would  they  get  so  long  as  I  could  load  a  shot  or  pull  a 
trigger.  Go  you  if  you  will ;  take  the  leddies  by  all 
means  if  you  think  it  safer ;  but  before  I'd  trust  the 
wan  sister  I  ever  had — God  rest  her  soul — to  the 
promise  of  any  such  blackguard  party  as  this,  I'd  bury 
my  knife  in  her  throat." 

An  awful  stillness  followed  Feeny's  words.  For  an 
instant  there  was  no  sound  but  quick-beating  hearts, 
the  mutterings  and  complainings  of  poor  Mullan, 
staggering  about  in  search  of  his  carbine,  the  quickened 
breath  and  low  moaning  of  poor  old  Plummer.  Then 
again  came  the  loud  hail  from  without. 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  109 

"  Once  more,  Ned  Harvey,  will  you  come  out  and 
be  saved,  or  stay  there  and  roast  ?  Surrender  now  and 
you're  all  right ;  but,  by  the  God  of  heaven,  if  you 
refuse,  it's  the  last  chance  for  you  or  those  you  were 
fool  enough  to  bring  here.  Think  for  your  sisters, 
man.  There's  no  hope  for  one  of  you  if  you  delay 
another  minute." 

And  then  it  was  a  woman's  voice,  tremulous  but 
jjear. 

'5Ned,  wasn't  it  to  save  us  that  Major  Plummer 
tjen\  bis  men  ?  Wasn't  it  for  our  sake  he  gave  up  all 
his  uxort  ?" 

"  It  svas,  Fan,  yes ;  at  least  he  thought  so." 

"Aid  now  you  would  desert  him,  would  you? — 
leave  hja ,  to  be  murdered  by  these  robbers,  the  worst 
gang  we  vver  had  or  heard  of.  I  say  you  shall  not. 
I  for  one  \\M  not  go  into  their  hands.  Ruth  cannot 
go  without  rce.  Stay  and  fight  it  out,  Ned,  or  you're 
not  your  fathu's  son." 

"  Fan  !  Fan  !  you're  a  trump !  God  bless  your 
brave  heart !"  cried  Harvey.  "  It  seemed  cowardly 
to  go,  yet  the  responsibility  was  more  than  I  could 
bear." 

"  May  the  saints  in  heaven  smile  on  your  purtty 
face  for  all  eternity  !"  muttered  Feeny,  in  a  rapture  of 
delight.  a  The  young  leddy  is  right,  Mr.  Harvey ; 
though  it  wasn't  for  me  to  say  it.     Shure  you  can't 

10 


110  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

trust  those  scoundrels ;  they'd  stab  ye  in  the  back,  sir, 
and  rob  you  of  your  pretty  sisters  and  drag  them  away 
before  your  dying  eyes.  That  man  Pasqual  is  a  devil, 
sir,  nothing  less.  Shure  we'll  fight  till  rescue  comes, 
for  come  it  will.  I  tell  you  the  boys  are  spurring 
towards  us,  hell  to  split,  from  every  side  now,  and 
we'll  whale  these  scoundrels  yet." 

Then  from  without  came  the  fiual  hail, — 
"  What  answer,  Harvey  ?  Now  or  never." 
"  Go  to  hell,  you  son  of  an  ape  and  worse  than  a 
Greaser !"  yelled  Feeny.  "  If  you  had  a  dhrop  of 
Irish  blood  in  your  veins  ye'd  never  ask  the  question. 
Now  if  you  think  you  can  take  this  money,  here's  your 
chance.     No  Harvey  ever  went  back  on  his  friends." 

Even  brain-muddled  Mullan  felt  a  maudlin  impulse 
to  cheer  at  Feeny's  enthusiastic  answer.  Even  poor 
old  Plummer  gave  a  half-stifled  cry.  Possibly  he 
dreamed  that  rescue  was  at  hand  ;  but  there  was  little 
time  for  rejoicing.  Springing  back  whence  he  came, 
the  unseen  emissary  was  heard  shouting  some  order  to 
his  fellows.  The  next  instant  the  rifles  began  their 
cracking  on  both  sides,  and  the  bullets  with  furious 
spat  drove  deep  into  the  adobe  or  whizzed  through  the 
gunny-sacks  into  the  barley.  The  unseen  foe  was 
once  more  investing  them  on  every  side  and  not  a  shot 
could  be  wasted  in  return.  Once  more  the  furious 
crackle  and  roar  of  flames  was  heard  close  at  hand, 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  Ill 

and  then  the  smoke  grew  thicker,  the  heat  increased, 
and  poor  Ned  Harvey,  his  eyes  smarting,  knelt  stead- 
fast at  his  post  and  prayed,  prayed  for  the  coming  of 
rescue,  for  the  return  of  the  loved  father,  all  the  gal- 
lant troop  at  his  back,  and  then — even  as  though  in, 
answer  to  his  prayer — there  came  a  sudden  lull  in  the 
fight. 

"  Something's  coming  !"  shouted  Feeny,  excitedly. 
"  They  see  or  hear  somebody,  sure.  Look,  Mr.  Har- 
vey, ain't  that  two  of  their  fellows  scudding  away 
westward  out  there  ?" 

Surely  enough.  In  the  glare  of  the  burning  sheds 
the  besieged  caught  a  glimpse  of  two  of  the  gang 
bending  low  in  their  saddles  a  hundred  yards  away 
and  scudding  like  hounds  over  towards  the  open  plain. 

f*  Is  it  rescue  ?  Are  our  people  coming  ?"  was  the 
query  that  rose  to  every  lip.     "  God  grant  it !" 

Heavens,  how  hearts  were  beating  !  How  ears  were 
straining  underneath  that  now  blazing  roof!  Louder, 
fiercer  soaied  the  flames  ;  furious  became  the  snapping 
of  sun-baked  branch  and  twig  ;  stifling  and  thick  the 
smoke. 

"  Quick  !  Come  here  for  a  breath  of  air,"  called 
Harvey  to  his  sisters.  "It's  safe  for  a  moment,  at 
least."  And  instantly  they  joined  him  at  the  door- 
way, still  clinging  close  to  the  floor. 

Listen  !     Hoofs  !    The  thunder  of  galloping  steeds  ! 


112  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

A  distant  cheer  !     A  soldierly  voice  in  hoarse  com- 
mand,— 

"  Steady,  steady  there  !  Keep  together,  men  !" 
"  God  be  praised !"  screamed  Feeny,  in  ecstasy. 
"  Look  up,  major  ;  look  up,  sir.  We're  all  safe  now. 
Here  come  the  boys.  Hurroo  !"  And  mad  with  relief 
and  delight,  the  sergeant  sprang  from  his  lair  just  as 
a  tall  trooper  in  the  Union  blue  shot  into  sight  in 
the  full  glare  of  the  flames,  sprang  from  his  foaming 
steed,  waving  his  hat  and  yelling, — 

"  All  right !  All  safe,  lads  !  Here  we  are !" 
Down  went  Harvey's  rifle  as  he  leaped  out  into  the 
blessed  air  to  greet  the  coming  host.  Down  went 
Feeny's  carbine  as,  with  outstretched  hand,  he  sprang 
to  grasp  his  comrade  trooper's.  With  rush  and  thun- 
der of  hoofs  a  band  of  horsemen  came  tearing  up  to 
the  spot  just  as  Feeny  reached  their  leader, — reached 
him  and  went  down  to  earth,  stunned,  senseless  from 
a  crashing  blow,  even  as  Ned  Harvey,  his  legs  jerked 
from  under  him  by  the  sudden  clip  of  rawhide  lariat, 
was  dragged  at  racing  speed  out  over  the  plain,  bump- 
ing over  stick  and  stone,  tearing  through  cactus, 
screaming  with  rage  and  pain,  until  finally  battered 
into  oblivion,  the  last  sound  that  fell  upon  his  ear  was 
the  shriek  of  agony  from  his  sisters'  lips,  telling  him 
they  were  struggling  in  the  rude  grasp  of  reckless  and 
infuriated  men. 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  113 


VI. 

Harvey  could  not  long  have  lain  unconscious.  No 
bones  were  broken,  no  severe  concussion  sustained  in 
the  rapid  drag  over  the  sandy  surface,  and  the  awful 
sense  of  the  calamity  that  had  befallen  him  and  the 
dread  and  doubt  as  to  the  fate  of  his  beloved  ones 
seemed  to  rally  his  stunned  and  bewildered  faculties 
and  bring  him  face  to  face  with  the  horror  of  the  situ- 
ation. Barely  able  to  breathe,  he  found  himself  rudely 
gagged.  Striving  to  raise  his  hand  to  tear  the  hateful 
bandage  away,  he  found  that  he  was  pinioned  by  the 
elbows  and  bound  hand  and  foot  by  the  very  riata, 
probably,  that  had  dragged  him  thither.  No  doubt  as 
to  the  nationality  of  his  unseen  captors  here.  The 
skill  with  which  he  had  been  looped,  tripped,  whisked 
away,  and  bound, — the  sharp,  biting  edges,  even  the 
odor  of  dirty  rawhide  rope, — all  told  him  that  though 
Americans  were  not  lacking  in  the  gang,  his  immediate 
antagonists  hailed  from  across  the  Souora  line.  Who 
and  what  they  were  mattered  little,  however.  The 
fact  that  after  hours  of  repulse  in  open  attack,  the 
foe  had  all  on  a  sudden  carried  their  castle  by  a  dam- 
nable ruse  was  only  too  forcibly  apparent.  Writhing, 
A  10* 


114  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

struggling  in  miserable  effort  to  free  himself  from  his 
bonds,  poor  Harvey's  burning  eyes  were  maddened  by 
the  picture  before  him  only  a  couple  of  hundred  yards 
away.  There  in  the  fierce  light  of  the  flames  now 
bursting  from  every  window  and  roaring  and  shooting 
high  in  air  from  the  brush-heaped  roof  of  Moreno's 
ranch, — there  stood  the  Concord  wagon,  stalwart  men 
clinging  to  the  heads  of  the  plunging  and  excited 
mules,  a  big  ruffian  already  in  the  driver's  seat,  whip 
and  reins  in  hand  ;  there  beside  it  was  the  paymaster's 
ambulance,  into  which  three  of  the  gang  were  just 
shoving  the  green-painted  iron  safe, — the  Pandora's 
box  that  had  caused  all  their  sorrows ;  there  Moreno's 
California  buck-board,  pressed  into  service  and  being 
used  to  carry  the  wounded,  drawn  by  the  extra  mules ; 
and  then — God  of  heaven  !  what  a  sight  for  brother's 
eyes  to  see  and  make  no  sign  ! — then  one  big  brute 
lifted  from  the  ground  and  handed  up  to  a  fellow 
already  ensconced  within  the  covered  wagon  the  sense- 
less, perhaps  lifeless,  form  of  pretty  little  Ruth,  his 
father's  idol.  The  poor  child  lay  unresisting  in  the 
ruffian's  arms,  but  not  so  Paquita.  It  took  two  men, 
strong  and  burly,  to  lift  and  force  her  into  the  dark 
interior,  and  one  of  those,  to  the  uttermost  detail  of 
his  equipment,  was  to  all  appearance  a  trooper  of  the 
United  States  cavalry.  There  stood  his  panting  horse 
with  hanging  head  and  jaded  withers,  the  very  steed 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  115 

whose  rush  they  had  welcomed  with  such  exceeding 
joy,  saddled,  bridled,  blanketed,  saddle-bagged,  lar- 
iated, side-lined,  every  item  complete  and  exactly  as 
issued  by  the  Ordnance  Department.  The  trooper 
himself  wore  the  field  uniform  of  the  cavalry, — the 
dark-blue  blouse,  crossed  by  the  black  carbine  sling, 
whose  big  brass  buckle  Ned  could  even  now  see  gleam- 
ing between  the  broad  shoulders,  and  gathered  at  the 
waist  by  the  old-fashioned  "  thimble  belt"  the  troop 
saddlers  used  to  make  for  field  service  before  the  woven 
girdle  was  devised.  Even  more :  Harvey  in  his  mis- 
ery remembered  the  thrill  of  joy  with  which  he  had 
noted,  as  the  splendid  rider  reined  in  and  threw  him- 
self from  the  saddle,  the  crossed  sabres,  the  troop  let- 
ter "  C,"  and  the  regimental  number  gleaming  at  the 
front  of  his  campaign  hat.  Who — who  could  this  be, 
wearing  the  honorable  garb  of  a  soldier  of  United 
States,  yet  figuring  as  a  ringleader  in  a  band  of  rob- 
bers and  assassins  now  adding  rapine  to  their  calendar 
of  crime  ?  Edward  Harvey's  heart  almost  buret  with 
helpless  rage  and  wretchedness  when  he  saw  his  pre- 
cious sisters  dragged  within  the  canvas  shelter, — saw 
the  tall,  uniformed  brigand  leap  lightly  after  them, 
and  heard  him  shout  to  the  ready  driver,  "  Now,  off 
with  you !" 

Crack  !  went  the  whip  as  the  men  sprang  from  the 
heads  of  the  frantic   mules,  and  with  a  bound  that 


116  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

nearly  wrenched  the  trace-hooks  from  the  stout  whip- 
pi  etree,  the  Concord  went  spinning  over  the  sands  to 
the  south,  whirling  so  near  him  that  over  the  thud  of 
hoofs  and  whirl  of  wheels  and  creak  of  spring  and 
wood-work  he  could  hear  poor  Fanny's  despairing  cry, 
— the  last  sound  he  was  aware  of  for  hours,  for  now 
in  dead  earnest  Harvey  swooned  away. 

Half  an  hour  later,  the  rafters  of  the  ranch  having 
by  this  time  tumbled  in  and  turned  the  interior  into  a 
glowing  furnace,  there  came  riding  from  the  west  a 
slender  skirmish  line  of  horsemen  in  the  worn  cam- 
paign dress  of  the  regular  cavalry.  With  the  advance 
there  were  not  more  than  six  or  eight,  a  tall,  slender 
lieutenant  leading  them  on  and  signalling  his  instruc- 
tions. With  carbines  advanced,  with  eyes  peering  out 
from  under  the  jagged  hat-brims,  the  veteran  troopers 
came  loping  into  the  light  of  the  flames,  expectant 
every  instant  of  hearing  the  crack  of  outlaw's  rifle, 
or  perhaps  the  hiss  of  feathered  arrow  of  unseen  foe. 
Though  some  of  the  steeds  looked  hot  and  wearied,  the 
big  raw-boned  sorrel  that  carried  the  young  com- 
mander tugged  at  his  bit  and  bounded  impatiently 
as  though  eager  for  the  signal — "  charge."  Straight 
into  the  circle  of  light,  straight  to  the  southern  en- 
trance, now  a  gate  of  flame,  the  soldier  rode  and 
loudly  hailed  "  Moreno  !" 

But    hissing,    snapping   wood-work  alone  replied. 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  117 

Guided  by  an  experienced  sergeant,  some  of  the  troop- 
ers, never  halting,  rode  on  into  the  eastward  darkness, 
and  there  were  stationed  as  videttes  to  guard  against 
surprise.  Returning  to  where  he  had  passed  his  lieu- 
tenant, the  sergeant  dismounted,  allowing  his  weary 
horse  to  stand,  and  then  began  minute  examination. 
Following  the  freshest  hoof-tracks,  he  found  the  young 
officer  riding  about  through  the  thick  smoke  within  the 
corral. 

"  Any  sign  of  Moreno  or  his  people,  sir  ?"  he  hailed. 

"  Not  yet.  Just  see  what's  beyond  that  door- way. 
My  horse  is  frightened  at  something  there  and  I  can't 
see  for  the  smoke." 

Obedient,  the  sergeant  pushed  ahead,  bending  low  to 
avoid  the  stifling  fumes.  Between  the  tumbled-down 
heap  of  barley-sacks  and  the  crumbling  wall  lay  some 
writhing  objects  in  the  sand,  and  his  stout  heart  almost 
failed  him  at  the  moan  of  agony  that  met  his  ear. 

"  Help  !  water  !     Oh,  for  Christ's  sake,  water  !" 

One  bound  carried  him  out  of  sight  of  his  superior. 
The  next  instant,  dragging  by  the  foot  a  prostrate 
form,  he  emerged  from  the  bank  into  the  fresher  air 
of  the  centre  of  the  corral.  Off  came  his  canteen  and 
was  held  to  the  parched  lips  of  a  stranger  in  scorched 
civilian  dress,  his  beard  and  hair  singed  by  the  flames, 
his  legs  and  arms  securely  bound. 

"  Who  are  you  and  what's  happened  ?    Whose  work 


118  FOES  JN  AMBUSH. 

is  this?"  demanded  the  lieutenant, leaping  from  saddle 
to  his  side.  The  man  seemed  swooning  away,  but  the 
sergeant  dashed  water  in  his  face. 

"  Quick  ! — the  others  ! — or  they'll  burn  to  death." 

"  What  others  ?  Where,  man  ?"  exclaimed  the 
soldiers,  springing  to  their  feet. 

"  Oh !  somewhere  in  there, — the  far  end  of  the 
corral — or  Moreno's  west  room,"  was  the  gasping 
reply. 

Another  rush  into  the  whirling,  eddying  smoke, 
another  search  along  under  the  wall,  and  presently  in 
the  flickering  light  the  rescuing  pair  came  upon  a  bar- 
rier of  barley-sacks,  burning  in  places  from  huge  flakes 
of  fire  falling  from  the  blazing  rafters  of  the  over- 
hanging shed,  and  behind  this,  senseless,  suffocated, 
helplessly  bound,  two  other  forms.  Thrusting  the 
sacks  aside,  the  troopers  seized  and  dragged  forth  their 
hapless  fellow-creatures.  Jarred  by  sudden  pressure, 
a  burning  upright  snapped.  There  was  a  crackling, 
crashing  sound,  and  down  came  the  rafters,  sending 
another  column  of  flame  to  light  up  the  features  of 
men  rescued  not  an  instant  too  soon  from  the  death 
that  awaited  them. 

"  My  God  !"  cried  Sergeant  Lee,  "  this  is  old  Feeny, 
— and  yet  alive." 

Together  the  two  raised  the  senseless  form,  bore  it 
out  into  the  open  space,  laid  it  gently  beside  their  first 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  119 

discovery,  and  ran  back  for  the  next,  a  big,  heavy, 
bulky  shape  in  loose  and  blood-stained  garments.  It 
took  all  their  strength  to  lug  it  forth.  Then  the 
lieutenant  bent  by  the  side  of  the  slowly  recovering 
civilian. 

"  Are  there  any  more  we  can  reach  ?"  he  questioned 
eagerly,  his  heart  beating  madly. 

"  No, — too  late  ! — others  were  inside  when  the  roof 
fell  in.     More  water, — more  water  !" 

Sergeant  Lee  sprang  to  the  olios,  gleaming  there  in 
the  fire-light,  and  brought  back  a  brimming  dipper, 
holding  it  to  the  poor  fellow's  parched  lips  until  he 
could  drink  no  more,  then  slashing  away  the  thongs 
with  which  he  was  bound. 

"  This  is  Greaser  work,"  he  cried.  "  How  could 
they  have  left  you  alive?  Where  are  Moreno's 
people  ?     Who's  done  this,  anyhow  ?" 

"  Pasqual  Morales.  Moreno  was  in  it,  too.  'Twas 
the  paymaster  they  were  laying  for ;  but  they've 
killed  Ned  Harvey  and  got  his  sisters, — old  Harvey's 
children — from  Tucson." 

"What?"  cried  the  officer,  leaping  to  his  feet. 
"  Harvey's  daughters  here  ? — here  ?  Man,  are  you 
mad  ?" 

"  It's  God's  truth  !  Oh,  if  I  had  a  drop  of  the 
whiskey  that's  being  burned  in  there !  I'm  nigh 
dead." 


120  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

11  Run  to  my  saddle-bags,  Lee ;  fetch  that  flask, 
quick ;  then  call  in  the  men  and  send  one  back  to 
hurry  up  the  rest.  Where  have  they  gone  ?  What 
have  they  done  with  their  captives  ?" 

"  God  knows  !  I  could  hear  them  screaming  and 
praying, — those  poor  girls !  Mullan  and  the  pay- 
clerk  picked  up  Feeny  after  he  was  stunned  and  they 
rushed  him  back  through  here,  where  the  paymaster 
had  dragged  himself,  to  where  you  found  him.  That 
— that's  the  paymaster  you've  got  there.  Then  they 
tried  to  save  a  drunken  soldier  while  all  the  gang 
seemed  crowding  after  the  safe  and  the  girls,  but  they 
were  shot  down  inside,  and  must  have  burned  to  death 
if  they  wasn't  killed.  Oh,  God,  what  a  night !"  And 
weak,  unstrung,  unmanned,  the  poor  fellow  sobbed 
aloud. 

At  this  instant  there  rode  into  the  corral  a  couple 
of  troopers. 

"  Lieutenant  Drummond  here  ?"  cried  one  of  them. 
"  We've  found  a  man  out  on  the  plain  to  the  south- 
east, gagged  and  bound.     Shall  we  fetch  him  in  ?" 

"  You  go,  Quinn,  but  get  some  one  else  to  help 
you.  Patterson,  your  horse  is  fresh,  gallop  back  on 
the  trail.  Tell  Sergeant  Meinecke  to  come  ahead  for 
all  he's  worth.  Let  the  packs  take  care  of  themselves. 
Send  Sergeant  Lee  in  here  to  me  again."  Then  with 
trembling  hands  the  young  officer  turned  his  attention 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  121 

to  his  other  patients.  Severing  the  cords  with  his 
hunting-knife,  he  freed  them  from  their  bonds,  then 
dashed  water  over  their  scorched  and  blackened  faces, 
meantime  keeping  up  a  running  fire  of  questions. 
Between  his  sobs,  the  young  civilian  told  him  that  the 
outlaws  had  hitched  in  both  teams  and  taken  also  the 
spare  mules  and  the  buck-board.  They  had  lifted  the 
Harvey  girls  into  the  Concord,  the  safe  and  Pasqual 
Morales  into  the  paymaster's  ambulance,  while  the 
wounded  men  and  Moreno's  people  probably  were  put 
on  the  open  wagon.  Then  they  had  all  driven  furi- 
ously away  to  the  south,  leaving  only  two  or  three 
men  to  complete  the  work  at  the  ranch.  Finding  the 
paymaster  and  sergeant  well-nigh  dead,  they  had  con- 
tented themselves  with  binding  and  leaving  them  to 
their  fate,  to  be  cremated  when  the  roof  of  the  shed 
came  down.  Then  one  of  the  gang  whom  he  had 
once  befriended  in  Tucson  pleaded  with  his  fellows  to 
spare  the  life  of  the  only  one  of  the  party  left  to  tell 
the  tale.  Pasqual  and  the  Mexicans  were  gone.  Those 
who  remained  were  Americans,  judging  by  their  speech, 
though  two  of  them  were  still  masked.  "  My  name 
is  Woods,"  said  the  poor  fellow.  "  But  that  bandit 
had  to  beg  hard.  They  were  ready  to  murder  any- 
body connected  with  the  defence,  for  Ramon  was  killed 
and  Pasqual  shot  through  the  leg.  I  did  that,  though 
they  didn't  know  it.     They  bound  and  left  me  here, 

9  11 


122  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

but  made  me  swear  I  would  tell  Harvey  and  his 
friends  when  they  got  back  that  it  was  no  use  follow- 
ing ;  they  had  thirty  armed  men  and  three  hours'  start. 
They  never  thought  of  any  one  else  getting  here  first. 
Oh,  my  God  !  who  can  break  it  to  Mr.  Harvey  when 
he  does  come  ?" 

And  then  Sergeant  Lee  came  hurrying  back,  one  or 
two  men  with  him,  and  together  they  labored  to  restore 
to  consciousness  the  paymaster,  breathing  feebly,  and 
old  Feeuy,  bleeding  from  a  gash  in  the  back  of  the 
skull  and  a  bullet-hole  through  the  body.  For  nearly 
quarter  of  an  hour  their  efforts  were  vain.  Meantime 
Drummond,  well-nigh  mad  over  the  delay,  was  pacing 
about  like  a  caged  tiger.  He  set  two  of  the  men  to 
work  to  hitch  the  bewildered  little  burros  to  the  well- 
wheel  and  get  up  several  huge  bucketfuls  of  water 
against  the  coming  of  the  troop.  He  ordered  others  to 
rub  down  his  handsome  sorrel,  Chester,  and  the  mounts 
of  two  of  the  advanced  party.  At  last  after  what 
must  have  seemed  an  age,  yet  could  not  have  been  over 
thirty  minutes  from  the  time  of  their  arrival,  a  soldier 
running  in,  said  he  could  hear  hoofs  out  on  the  plain, 
and  at  the  same  instant  two  men  appeared  lugging  be- 
tween them,  bleeding  and  senseless,  the  ragged  form 
of  Edward  Harvey. 

Scratched,  torn,  covered  with  blood  and  bruises,  and 
still  unconscious  though  he  was,  Drummond  knew  him 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  123 

at  a  glance.  They  had  met  the  previous  year,  and 
though  only  once  it  was  enough.  Men  with  young 
and  lovely  sisters  are  not  soon  forgotten.  Kneeling 
by  his  side,  the  lieutenant  sought  anxiously  for  trace 
of  blade  or  bullet.  Rents  there  were  many  and  many 
a  bloody  scratch  and  tear,  but,  to  his  infinite  relief, 
no  serious  wound  appeared.  Still  in  deep  swoon,  his 
friend  seemed  to  resist  every  effort  for  his  restoration. 
The  dash  of  water  in  his  face  was  answered  only  by  a 
faint  shivering  sigh.  The  thimbleful  of  whiskey  forced 
between  his  lips  only  gurgled  down  his  throat,  and 
Drummond  felt  no  responsive  flutter  of  pulse.  The 
shock  to  his  system  must  indeed  have  been  great,  for 
Harvey  lay  like  one  in  a  trance.  Drummond  feared 
that  he  might  never  again  open  his  eyes  to  light  and 
home. 

And  then  the  weary  troop  came  trotting  into  view, 
old  Sergeant  Meinecke  in  command.  Halting  and 
dismounting  at  his  signal,  the  men  stood  silent  and 
wondering  at  their  horses'  heads,  while  their  leader 
went  in  to  report  to  his  commander.  Drummond  barely 
lifted  his  eyes  from  the  pallid  features  before  him. 

"  Unsaddle,  sergeant ;  rub  down ;  pick  out  the  best 
and  likeliest  horses.  I  want  twenty  men  to  go  on  a 
chase  with  me.     How  soon  can  the  packs  get  up  ?" 

"  They  must  be  fully  half  an  hour  behind,  sir." 

"Sorry  for  that,  sergeant.     We've  got  to  take  at 


124  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

least  four  of  them ;  load  them  up  with  barley,  bacon, 
hardtack,  ammunition.  Kick  off  everything  else. 
We'll  feed  and  water  here  before  starting,  then  we've 
got  to  ride  like  the  devil.  Send  Trooper  Bland  here 
as  soon  as  he  has  unsaddled.  I  want  him  to  ride  with 
me.     He  knows  all  the  roads  to  the  south." 

Meinecke  saluted  in  his  methodical  German  fash- 
ion, turned  away,  and  presently  could  be  heard 
ordering  "  Unsaddle"  and  then  shouting  for  Private 
Bland. 

"  Are  there  any  of  our  men  besides  the  farrier  who 
have  any  knowledge  of  surgery  ?"  asked  the  lieutenant 
of  Sergeant  Lee. 

"  They  say  Bland  has,  sir.  I  don't  know  any  one 
else." 

"Well,  I've  just  sent  for  him.  Mr.  Harvey  here 
doesn't  seem  to  be  wounded,  yet  it's  impossible  to 
bring  him  to.  Give  Woods  a  little  more  whiskey  and 
see  if  you  can  get  a  word  out  of  the  major  or  Feeny." 

But  efforts  with  the  half-suffocated  men  had  no 
effect.  The  whiskey  with  Woods  had  better  results. 
He  presently  ceased  his  shivering  sobs  and  could 
answer  more  questions.  Drummond  begged  for  par- 
ticulars of  the  capture,  and  these  the  man  found  it 
difficult  to  give.  He  was  stationed  at  the  back  door, 
the  corral  side,  he  said,  and  hardly  saw  the  final  rush. 
But  there  was  something  so  queer  about  it.     There 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  125 

nad  been  a  few  minutes'  lull.  Then  Harvey  and  Feeny 
both  began  to  talk  excitedly  aud  to  call  out  that  the 
"  road  agents"  were  running  away,  and  then  presently 
there  came  sound  of  galloping  hoofs  and  cheering,  and 
both  the  sergeant  and  Mr.  Harvey  had  shouted  that 
the  troops  were  coming  and  rushed  out  to  meet  them, — 
"  And  the  next  thing  I  knew,"  said  Woods,  "  was 
seeing  Feeny  flattened  out  on  the  ground  and  crawling 
on  his  hands  and  knees  and  the  room  filled  with 
roughs,  some  Mexicans,  some  Yanks,  and  I  slipped 
into  the  corral  and  saw  one  of  them  shoot  Feeny  as  he 
was  trying  to  crawl  after  me ;  and  while  they  were 
swearing  and  searching  for  the  safe  and  carrying  it  out, 
Mr.  Dawes  and  Mullan  managed,  somehow,  to  help 
the  paymaster  out,  and  then  went  in  after  the  other 
man."  Then  Woods  could  tell  little  more.  One 
thing,  he  said,  amazed  and  excited  him  so  he  couldn't 
believe  his  eyes,  but  he  was  almost  ready  to  swear  that 
the  fellow  Feeny  ran  to  shake  hands  with  was  a  soldier 
in  uniform,  and  that  he  held  Feeny's  hand  while  an- 
other man  came  up  behind  and  "  mashed"  him  with 
the  butt  of  his  pistol,  and  that  this  fellow  in  soldier 
clothes  was  the  man  who  afterwards  shot  Feeny  as  he 
was  trying  to  crawl  away. 

Drummond  looked  around  at  the  man  incredulous, — 
almost  derisive.  The  story  was  improbable,  too  much 
so  to  deserve  even  faint  attention.     Just  then  Meinecke 

11* 


126  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

came  back  and,  precise  as  ever,  stood  attention  and 
saluted. 

"  Herr  Lieutenant,  Private  Bland  is  not  with  my 
party  at  all,  sir." 

"  Did  you  leave  him  back  with  the  packs  ?" 

"  No,  sir ;  the  men  say  he  wasn't  with  us  all  night. 
He  rode  ahead  with  the  lieutenant  until  we  came  to 
Corporal  Donovan's  body." 

"  He's  not  been  with  me  since,"  exclaimed  the  lieu- 
tenant. "  Sergeant  Lee,  ask  if  any  of  the  men  have 
seen  him." 

Lee  was  gone  but  a  moment,  then  came  back  with 
grave  face  and  troubled  eyes,  bringing  with  him  a 
young  trooper  who  was  serving  his  first  enlistment. 

"  Private  Goss,  here,  has  a  queer  story  to  tell,  sir." 

"  What  do  you  know  ?  What  have  you  seen  ?" 
asked  Drummond. 

"  Why,  sir,  right  after  Sergeant  Lee  caught  sight  of 
the  fire  and  sung  out  that  it  was  Moreno's  I  was  back 
about  a  couple  of  rods  looking  for  my  canteen.  I 
was  that  startled  when  they  found  Corporal  Donovan 
dead  that  I  dropped  it,  and  all  of  a  sudden  somebody 
comes  out  past  me  leading  his  horse,  and  I  asked  him 
what  he  had  lost,  and  he  said  his  pipe,  and  passed  me 
by,  and  I  thought  nothing  more  about  it, — only  no 
sooner  did  he  get  out  into  the  dark  where  I  couldn't 
gee  him  than  I  heard  all  of  a  sudden  a  horse  start  at 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  127 

full  gallop  right  over  in  this  direction,  and  now  I 
think  of  it  it  must  have  been  Bland,  for  it  was  him 
that  passed  me,  sir, — sneaking  out  like."., 

Drummond  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  What  say  you  to  this,  sergeant  ?  Do  you  believe, 
—do  you  think  it  possible  that  Bland  has  deserted 
and  joined  these  outlaws  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  think,  sir,  but  I  haven't 
forgotten  what  Feeny  said  of  him." 

"What was  that?" 

"  That  he  had  too  smooth  a  tongue  to  have  led  a 
rough  and  honest  life ;  that  if  he  was  a  Texan  as  he 
claimed,  Texas  people  had  learned  to  talk  a  different 
lingo  since  he  was  stationed  among  them  with  the  old 
Second  Cavalry  before  the  war,  and  that  he  wished 
he'd  been  there  at  Lowell  when  the  adjutant  accepted 
those  letters  from  former  officers  of  the  regiment  as 
genuine.  Bland  would  never  show  them  to  Feeny. 
Said  he  had  sent  'em  all  to  his  home  in  Texas.  That 
was  what  made  bad  blood  between  them." 

"  By  heaven  !  and  now  to  think  that  one  of  our 
troop — fC  troop — should  have  been  engaged  in  this 
outrage !  But  we'll  get  them,  men,"  said  Drummond, 
straightening  up  to  his  full  height  and  raising  his 
gauntleted  hand  in  air.  "  They  can't  go  fast  or  far 
with  those  wagons  such  a  night  as  this.  They'll  strike 
the  foot-hills  before  they've  gone  ten  miles,  then  they'll 


128  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

have  to  go  slow.  We'll  catch  them  before  the  sun  is 
up,  and,  by  the  God  of  heaven,  if  Bland  is  with  them, 
I'll  string  him  to  the  highest  tree  we  can  find." 

"  There's  more  than  him  that'll  be  strung  up," 
growled  a  grizzled  old  trooper  in  an  undertone.  "  The 
gang  that  murdered  Pat  Donovan  will  find  scant  mercy 
in  this  crowd." 

"Ay,  ay,"  said  another,  "and  there's  more  than 
Pat  Donovan  to  be  scored  off.  Look  yonder."  For 
at  the  instant  one  of  the  packers  came  leading  into  the 
corral  a  resisting  mule,  at  sight  of  whose  burden  many 
of  the  horses  started  in  fear.  It  was  the  lifeless  body 
of  Donovan's  companion,  the  soldier  who  had  escaped 
the  assassin's  bullet  when  "Patsy"  fell  only  to  be 
overtaken  and  cut  down  half-way  to  Moreno's. 

"  It's  the  bloodiest  night  I've  known  even  in  Ari- 
zona," said  Lee  to  his  young  leader.  "  The  paymaster 
and  Mr.  Harvey  about  as  good  as  dead,  old  Feeny 
dying,  most  like,  the  clerk  and  Mullan  and  some  other 
trooper  of  the  escort  burned  to  ashes  in  that  hell-hole 
there,  and  Donovan  and  this  last  one — some  of  our 
fellows  think  is  Flynn,  from  *  F'  troop — shot  to  death. 
It's  worse  than  Apache,  lieutenant,  and  there'll  be  no 
use  trying  to  restrain  our  fellows  when  we  catch  the 
blackguards." 

Quarter  of  an  hour  later,  leaving  half  a  dozen 
soldiers  under  an  experienced  sergeant  to  guard  the 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  129 

packs,  the  wounded,  and  the  non-combatants  at  the 
smouldering  ruins  of  the  ranch,  with  barely  a  score 
of  seasoned  troopers  at  his  back,  Lieutenant  Jim 
Drummond  rode  resolutely  out  towards  the  southern 
desert,  towards  the  distant  line  of  jagged  mountains 
that  spanned  the  far  horizon.  The  false  and  fatal 
blaze  at  the  Picacho  had  utterly  disappeared,  and  all 
was  darkness  at  the  west.  The  red  glow  of  the 
smouldering  embers  behind  was  no  longer  sufficient 
to  light  their  path.  Straight  away  southward  led 
the  wheel-tracks,  first  separate  and  distinct,  but  soon 
blending,  as  though  one  wagon  had  fallen  behind  and 
followed  the  trail  of  the  bolder  leader  in  the  first. 
Straight  away  after  them  went  the  ruck  of  hoof-tracks, 
telling  plainly  that  for  a  time  at  least  the  gaug 
had  massed  and  was  prepared  to  guard  its  plunder. 
Stop  to  divide  it  was  evident  they  dared  not,  for  they 
had  not  with  them  the  implements  to  break  into  the 
safe,  and  all  their  searching  and  threatening  had  failed 
to  extract  from  the  apparently  dying  paymaster  any 
clue  as  to  what  he  had  done  with  the  key.  Stick 
together,  therefore,  they  undoubtedly  would,  reasoned 
the  lieutenant,  and  all  their  effort  would  be  to  reach 
some  secure  haunt  in  the  Sierras,  and  there  send  back 
their  demand  for  ransom.  Twenty-five  thousand  dol- 
lars in  cash  and  George  Harvey's  precious  daughters  ! 
It  was  indeed  a  rich  haul, — one  that  in  all  the  dread 


130  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

history  of  the  Morales  gang  had  never  been  equalled. 
Even  had  they  failed  to  secure  the  safe  the  richer  booty 
was  theirs  in  having  seized  the  girls.  But  few  people 
in  Arizona — as  Arizona  then  was  constituted — would 
make  great  effort  to  overhaul  a  gang  of  robbers  whose 
only  victim  was  Uncle  Sam  and  "his  liveried  hire- 
lings." Nobody  in  Sonora  would  fail  to  regard  them 
with  envious  eyes  ;  but  in  the  deed  of  rapine  that  made 
them  the  captors  and  possessors  of  those  defenceless 
sisters  each  man  had  put  a  price  upon  his  head,  a 
halter  round  his  neck,  for  "Gringo"  and  "Greaser," 
American  and  Mexican  alike,  would  spring  to  arms  to 
rescue  and  avenge. 

As  the  rearmost  of  the  little  party  of  pursuers  dis- 
appeared in  the  darkness  and  the  wearied  pack-mules 
went  jogging  sullenly  after,  urged  on  by  the  goad  of 
their  half-Mexican  driver,  the  sergeant  left  in  charge 
of  the  detachment  at  the  corral  looked  at  his  watch 
and  noted  that  it  was  just  half-past  two  o'clock.  The 
dawn  would  be  creeping  on  at  four. 

Wearied  as  were  his  men  he  did  not  permit  them  all 
to  rest.  The  condition  of  his  wounded  and  the  in- 
structions  left  him  by  Lieutenant  Drummond  made  it 
necessary  that  they  should  have  constant  attention.  It 
was  sore  trouble  for  him  to  look  at  the  old  paymaster, 
whose  life  seemed  ebbing  away,  lying  there  so  pallid 
and  moaning  at  times  so  pitifully,  but  Feeny  lay  tor- 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  131 

pid,  breathing,  yet  seeming  to  suffer  not  at  all.  Both 
were  in  desperate  need  of  surgical  attendance,  but 
where  could  surgeon  be  found  ?  The  nearest  was  at 
Stoneman,  the  little  cantonment  across  the  Christobal, 
thirty  miles  to  the  east ;  and  though  a  gallant  fellow 
had  volunteered  to  make  the  ride  alone  through  the 
Apache-infested  pass  and  carry  the  despatch  that 
Drummond  had  hurriedly  pencilled,  there  was  no  pos- 
sibility of  doctors  reaching  them  before  the  coming 
night,  and  the  thought  of  all  they  might  have  to  suffer 
through  the  fierce  white  heat  of  the  intervening  day 
was  one  that  gave  the  sergeant  deep  concern.  Then, 
too,  who  could  say  whether  the  solitary  trooper  would 
succeed  in  running  the  gauntlet  and  making  his  way 
through  ?  He  was  a  resolute  old  frontiersman,  skilled 
in  Indian  warfare,  and  well  aware  that  his  best  chance 
was  in  the  dark,  but  speed  as  he  might  the  broad  light 
of  day  would  be  on  him  long  before  he  could  get  half- 
way through  the  range.  The  stage  from  the  west 
would  probably  come  along  about  sunset,  but  nothing 
could  be  hoped  for  sooner.  No  troops  were  nearer 
than  the  Colorado  in  that  direction  except  the  little 
signal-post  at  the  Picacho.  Corporal  Fox  and  two 
men  had  been  sent  thither  to  inquire  what  the  signal 
meant,  and  it  would  soon  be  time  for  them  to  come 
riding  in  with  their  report.  How  he  wished  Wing 
were  here  !    Wing  knew  something  about  everything. 


132  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

He  was  an  expert  veterinarian,  something  of  a  doctor, 
knew  more  of  mineralogy  than  all  the  officers  put  to- 
gether, and  could  speak  Spanish  better  than  any  man 
in  the  regiment.  When  it  became  necessary  to  have  a 
eigual-station  at  the  peak  and  it  was  found  that  no  one 
knew  anything  about  the  business,  Wing  got  one  of 
the  old  red  manuals,  studied  the  system,  and  inside  of 
a  week  was  signalling  with  the  expert  sent  down  from 
San  Francisco. 

The  interior  of  the  ranch  was  still  a  smouldering 
furnace  as  four  o'clock  drew  nigh.  Woods,  weak  and 
exhausted,  had  fallen  into  an  uneasy  sleep.  The 
trooper  detailed  to  watch  over  old  Plummer  and 
Feeny  and  bathe  their  faces  with  cool  water  was  nod- 
ding over  his  charge.  Here  and  there  under  the  shed 
on  the  north  side  which  the  flames  had  not  reached  the 
men  were  dozing,  or  in  low,  awe-stricken  tones,  talking 
of  the  tragic  events  of  the  night.  Near  the  east  gate, 
reverently  and  decently  covered  with  the  only  shroud 
to  be  had,  the  newest  of  the  saddle-blankets,  lay  the 
stiffening  remains  of  poor  Donovan  and  his  comrade. 
Lurking  about  the  westward  end  of  the  enclosure, 
their  beady  eyes  every  now  and  then  glittering  in  the 
firelight,  the  Mexicans,  men  and  boy,  were  smoking 
their  everlasting  papellitos,  apparently  indifferent  to  the 
fate  that  had  deprived  them  of  home  and  occupation. 
One  of  the  troopers  had  burrowed  a  hole  in  the  sand, 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  133 

started  a  little  cook  fire,  and  was  boiling  some  coffee  in 
a  tin  quart  mug.  Overhead  and  far  down  to  the  hori- 
zon, on  every  side  the  stars  shone  and  sparkled  through 
the  vaporless  skies.  Eastward  towards  the  Christo- 
bal  they  were  just  beginning  to  pale  when  a  faint 
voice  was  heard  pleading  for  water.  Sergeant  Butler 
sprang  from  his  seat  and  hastened  to  where  he  had 
•left  Mr.  Harvey  but  a  few  minutes  before,  still  in 
deep  and  obstinate  swoon. 

"  Water  is  it,  sir  ?  Here  you  are  !  I'm  glad  to  see 
you  picking  up  a  little.  Mr.  Drummond  left  this  fot 
you,  too,  sir.  He  said  you  would  maybe  need  it." 
And  the  sergeant  raised  the  dizzy  head  and  held  a  little 
flask  to  Harvey's  lips. 

"  Where  is  he  ?"  at  last  the  sufferer  was  able  to 
gasp. 

"  Overhauling  the  outlaws,  hand  over  fist,  by  this 
time,  sir.  He  has  twenty  good  men  at  his  back,  and 
we'll  have  the  ladies  safe  to-night, — see  if  we  don't." 

"Oh,  God  !"  groaned  the  stricken  brother,  burying 
his  face  in  his  arms  as  the  recollection  of  the  fearful 
events  of  the  night  came  crowding  upon  him.  For  a 
moment  he  seemed  to  quiver  and  tremble  in  every 
limb,  then  with  sudden  effort  raised  his  head  an<$ 
turned  again,  the  blood  trickling  anew  from  a  gash  in 
his  face  as  he  did  so. 

"  Give  me  more  of  that,"  he  moaned,  stretching 
12 


134  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

forth  a  trembling  hand.  "  More  water,  too.  Lend  me 
a  horse  and  your  carbine.  I  must  go  !  I  must  go !" 
But  there  his  strength  failed  him,  and  grasping  wildly 
at  empty  air,  poor  Harvey  fell  heavily  back  before  the 
sergeant  could  interpose  an  arm  to  save. 

"  Don't  think  of  it,  sir ;  you're  far  too  weak,  and 
you're  not  needed.  Never  fear,  the  lieutenant  and  '  C 
troop  will  do  all  that  men  can  do.  They'll  bring  the 
ladies  safely  back  as  soon  as  they've  hung  what's  left 
of  that  murdering  gang. — Hello  !  That  you,  Fox  ?" 
he  shouted,  springing  up  as  two  or  three  horsemen 
came  spurring  in. 

"  It's  I, — Wing,"  was  the  answer  in  ringing  tones. 
"  Fox  is  coming  slower.  Quick  now.  Is  it  so  that 
that  gang  has  run  on0  the  young  ladies  ?" 

"  It's  God's  truth.  Here's  Mr.  Ned  Harvey  him- 
self." 

In  an  instant  Wing  was  kneeling  by  the  side  of  the 
prostrate  man. 

"  Merciful  heaven,  my  friend,  but  they've  used  you 
fearfully  !  They  only  bound  and  held  me  till  Jackson 
got  back  from  Ceralvo's  a  couple  of  hours  ago.  Are 
you  shot, — injured  ?" 

"  No,  no,"  groaned  Harvey.  "  But  I  am  broken, 
utterly  broken,  and  my  sisters  are  in  the  hands  of  those 
hounds." 

"  Never  worry  about  that,  man.     I   know  young 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  135 

Drummond  well.  There  isn't  a  braver,  better  officer 
in  the  old  regiment  if  he  is  but  a  boy.  He'll  never 
drop  that  trail  till  he  overtakes  them,  and  by  the  time 
he  needs  us,  old  Pike  here  and  I  will  be  at  his  side. 
Thank  the  Lord,  those  louts  were  frightened  off  and 
never  took  our  horses.  They're  fresh  as  daisies  both 
of  'em.  Cheer  up,  Mr.  Harvey.  If  hard  riding  and 
hard  fighting  will  do  it,  we'll  have  your  sisters  here  to 
nurse  you  before  another  night. — Come,  Pike,"  he  cried, 
as  he  vaulted  into  saddle.  "  Now  for  the  liveliest  gal- 
lop of  your  lazy,  good-for-nothing  life.     Come  on  1" 


136  FOES  IN  AMBUSB. 


VII. 

A  new  May  morning  was  breaking,  its  faint  rosy 
light  warming  the  crests  of  the  Santa  Maria,  when 
Lieutenant  Drummond  signalled  "  halt"  to  his  little 
band,  the  first  halt  since  leaving  Moreno's  at  half-past 
two.  Down  in  a  rocky  cafion  a  number  of  hoof-prints 
on  the  trail  diverged  to  the  left  and  followed  an  abrupt 
descent,  while  the  wagons  had  kept  to  the  right,  and 
by  a  winding  and  more  gradual  road  seemed  to  have 
sought  a  crossing  farther  to  the  west.  It  was  easy  to 
divine  that,  with  such  elements  in  the  gang,  there  had 
been  no  long  separation  between  the  horsemen  and  the 
treasure  they  were  guarding,  and,  eager  as  he  was  to 
overtake  the  renegades,  Drummond  promptly  decided 
to  follow  the  hoof-tracks,  rightly  conjecturing,  too, 
that  they  would  bring  him  to  water  in  the  rocky  tanks 
below.  Dismounting  and  leading  his  big  sorrel,  he 
sprang  lightly  from  ledge  to  ledge  down  what  seemed 
a  mere  goat-trail,  each  man  in  succession  dismounting 
at  the  same  point,  and,  with  more  or  less  elasticity, 
coming  on  in  the  footsteps  of  his  leader.  The  faint 
wan  light  of  early  dawn  was  rendering  neighboring 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  137 

objects  visible  on  the  sandy  plain  behind  them,  but 
had  not  yet  penetrated  into  the  depths  of  the  gorge. 
Lying  far  to  the  west  of  the  Tucson  road,  this  was  a 
section  of  the  country  unknown  to  any  of  the  troop, 
and  with  every  prospect  of  a  broiling  ride  across  the 
desert  ahead  so  soon  as  the  sun  was  up,  no  chance  for 
watering  their  horses  could  be  thrown  away.  Just  as 
he  expected,  Druramond  found  the  descent  becoming 
more  gradual,  and  in  a  moment  or  two  the  bottom  of 
the  dark  rift  was  found,  and  presently,  keeping  keen 
lookout  for  the  reflection  of  the  stars  still  lingering 
overhead,  the  leading  men  were  rewarded,  and  halted 
at  the  edge  of  a  shining  pool  of  clear,  though  not  very 
cool,  water,  and  the  horses  thrust  their  hot  muzzles 
deep  into  the  wave.  Here,  shaded  by  the  broad- 
brimmed  hats  of  white  felt,  such  as  the  Arizona 
trooper  of  the  old  days  generally  affected,  a  match  or 
two  was  struck  and  the  neighborhood  searched  for 
"  sign."  The  rocks  around  the  tank  were  dry,  the  little 
drifts  of  sand  blown  down  from  the  overhanging 
height  were  smooth.  Whatsoever  splashing  had  been 
done  by  the  horses  of  the  outlaws  there  had  been 
abundant  time  for  it  to  evaporate,  therefore  the  com- 
mand could  not  thus  far  have  gained  very  rapidly  on 
the  pursued.  But  Drummond  felt  no  discouragement. 
Up  to  this  point  the  way  had  been  smooth  and  suffi- 
ciently hard  to  make  wheeling  an  easy  matter.     The 

12* 


138  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

wagons  had  been  lugged  along  at  brisk  trot,  the  attend- 
ing cavaliers  riding  at  lively  lope.  Now,  however, 
there  would  be  no  likelihood  of  their  making  such 
time.  The  ambulance  could  only  go  at  slow  walk  the 
rest  of  the  way,  and  the  guards  must  remain  alongside 
to  protect  the  stolen  funds,  not  so  much  from  envious 
outsiders  as  from  one  another.  Pasqual  Morales 
showed  his  accustomed  shrewdness  when  he  forbade 
that  any  one  should  try  to  burst  into  the  safe  and  ex- 
tract the  money,  for  well  he  knew  that  if  divided 
among  the  men  there  would  be  no  longer  a  loadstone 
to  hold  them  together,  to  call  for  their  fiercest  fighting 
powers  if  assailed.  The  instant  the  money  was  scat- 
tered the  gang  would  follow  suit,  and  he  be  left  to 
meet  the  cavalry  single-handed. 

The  horses  of  the  little  detachment  were  not  long 
in  slaking  their  thirst.  The  noiseless  signal  to  mount 
was  given,  and,  following  in  the  lead  of  their  young 
lieutenant,  the  troopers  rode  silently  down  the  winding 
cafion,  Drummond  and  Sergeant  Lee  bending  low  over 
their  chargers'  necks  to  see  that  they  did  not  miss 
the  hoof-prints.  Little  by  little  the  light  of  dawn 
began  to  penetrate  the  dark  depths  in  which  they  were 
scouting,  and  trailing  became  an  easier  matter.  Pres- 
ently the  sergeant  pointed  to  the  face  of  the  opposite 
slope,  now  visible  from  base  to  summit  where  an 
abrupt  bend  threw  it  against  the  eastern  light. 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  139 

"  Yonder's  where  the  ambulance  came  down,  sir." 
"  I  see,  and  we  can't  be  far  from  where  it  crossed. 
Trot  ahead  and  take  a  look.     Let  Patterson  go  with 
you.     If  you  find  a  chance  for  short-cuts,  signal." 

Another  half-hour  passed  away  and  still  the  trail 
led  along  this  strange,  rock-ribbed  groove  in  the  desert, 
the  dry  bed  of  some  long-lost  stream.  When  first  met 
it  seemed  to  be  cutting  directly  across  their  line  of 
march,  now  it  had  turned  southward,  and,  for  several 
miles  ahead,  south  or  west  of  south  was  its  general 
course.  The  light  was  now  broad  and  clear,  though 
the  sun  had  not  yet  peeped  across  the  mountain  range 
to  their  left.  The  pace  was  rapid,  Drummond  fre- 
quently urging  his  men  to  the  trot  or  canter.  Out  to 
the  front  four  or  five  hundred  yards,  often  lost  to  view 
in  the  windings  of  the  way,  Sergeant  Lee  with  a  single 
trooper  rode  in  the  advance,  but  not  once  had  he  sig- 
nalled a  discovery  worth  recording.  Both  wagon  and 
hoof-tracks  here  pursued  a  common  road.  It  was  evi- 
dent that  some  horsemen  had  found  it  necessary  to  ride 
alongside.  It  was  evident,  too,  that  the  outlaws  were 
travelling  at  full  speed,  as  though  anxious  to  reach 
some  familiar  lair  before  turning  to  face  their  expected 
pursuers.  Every  one  in  the  gang,  from  Pasqual  down 
to  their  humblest  packer,  well  knew  that  it  could  not 
be  long  before  cavalry  in  strong  force  would  come 
trotting  in  chase.      The  squadron  at  Stoncman  would 


140  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

surely  be  on  the  march  by  the  coming  sunset.  As  for 
"  C"  troop,  they  had  little  to  fear.  Pasqual  laughed 
with  savage  glee  as  he  thought  how  he  had  lured  them 
in  scattered  detachments  far  up  to  the  Gila  or  over  to 
the  Christobal.  No  need  to  fear  the  coming  of  the 
late  escort  of  the  paymaster.  By  this  time  those  not 
dead,  drugged,  or  drunk  were  worn  out  with  fatigue. 
Over  the  body  of  his  bandit  brother,  the  swarthy 
Ramon,  he  had  fiercely  rejoiced  that  seven  to  one  he 
had  avenged  his  death,  and  Pasqual  counted  on  the 
fingers  of  his  broAvn  and  bloody  hand  the  number  of 
the  victims  of  the  night.  Donovan  and  his  fellow- 
trooper  killed  on  the  open  plain.  The  paymaster  and 
his  clerk,  Mullan  and  the  other  soldier,  dead  in  their 
tracks  and  burned  to  ashes  by  this  time,  and,  best  of 
all,  "  that  pig  of  a  sergeant,"  as  Moreno  called  him, 
that  hound  and  murderer,  Feeny, — he  who  had  slain 
Ramon, — bound,  gagged,  and  left  to  miserable  death 
by  torture.  Indeed,  as  he  was  jolted  along  in  the 
ambulance,  groaning  and  cursing  by  turns,  Pasqual 
wondered  why  he  had  not  insisted  that  Harvey,  too, 
should  be  given  the  coup  de  grace  before  their  start. 
It  was  an  unpardonable  omission.  Never  mind  ! 
There  in  the  brand-new  Concord  that  came  clattering 
along  there  was  booty  that  outrivalled  all.  There  was 
wealth  far  exceeding  the  stacks  of  treasury  notes, — old 
Harvey's  daughters, — old  Harvey's  daughters.    It  was 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  141 

with  mad,  feverish  joy  that  when  at  last  the  sun  came 
pouring  in  a  flood  of  light  over  the  desert  of  the  Cababi 
he  listened  to  the  report  of  a  trusted  subordinate. 

"  I  could  see  every  mile  of  the  road  with  my  glasses, 
capitan,  from  the  cliff  top  yonder — every  mile  from 
Moreno's  to  where  we  struck  the  caflon.  There  isn't  a 
sign  of  dust, — there  isn't  a  sign  of  pursuing  party." 

"  Bueno  !  Then  we  rest  when  we  reach  the  cave. 
This  is  even  better  than  I  hoped." 

But  there  were  two  elements  in  the  problem  Capitan 
Pasqual  had  failed  to  consider, — Lieutenant  Drum- 
mond's  scout  in  the  Christobal,  Cochises's  band  of 
Chiricahuas  in  the  Santa  Maria.  Who  could  have 
foreseen  that  the  little  troop,  finishing  its  duties  at  the 
northern  end  of  the  range  and  about  turning  south 
to  re-scout  the  Santa  Maria,  had  ridden  out  upon  the 
plain,  summoned  by  the  beacon  at  Picacho  Pass,  and 
less  than  two  hours  after  their  hurried  start  from  the 
burning  ruins  at  Moreno's  were  speeding  on  their  trail? 
The  best  field-glasses  ever  stolen  from  the  paternal 
government  could  not  reveal  to  the  fleeing  outlaw  that, 
only  two  or  three  miles  back  in  the  dim  recesses  of  the 
crooked  gorge,  the  blue-coats  were  following  in  hot 
pursuit.  Who  could  have  dreamed  that  a  band  of 
Apaches,  cut  off  from  their  native  wilds  by  detach- 
ments from  Bowie,  Lowell,  and  Crittenden,  and  forced 
to  make  a  wide  dMour  to  the  southwest,  had  sought 


142  FOES  tS  AMBUSH. 

refuge  in  the  very  gorge  of  the  Cababi  whither  Pasqual 
with  all  speed  was  urging  his  men  ? 

"  We  rest  when  we  reach  the  cave." 

Ah,  even  the  torment  of  his  wound  could  not  have 
wrung  from  the  robber  chief  this  longed-for  order  had 
he  dreamed  what  was  coming  at  his  back. 

"  How  are  the  girls  gettiug  on  ?"  he  asked  of  his 
hot  and  wearied  aide.     "  Are  they  tranquil  now  ?" 

"  They  have  to  be,"  was  the  grim  reply.  "  The 
little  one  dare  not  open  her  eyes,  and  Sanchez  has  his 
knife  at  the  elder's  throat." 

And  the  sunrise  had  brought  with  it  new  inspira- 
tion,— new  purpose  to  those  who  came  trotting  to  the 
rescue.  Just  as  the  cliffs  on  the  western  side  were 
tipped  and  fringed  with  rose  and  gold,  Sergeant  Lee, 
riding  rapidly  far  ahead  from  point  to  point,  always 
carefully  peering  around  each  bend  before  signalling 
"come  on,"  was  seen  suddenly  to  halt  and  throw  him- 
self from  his  horse.  The  next  instant  he  stood  erect, 
waving  some  white  object  high  in  air.  Spurring  for- 
ward, Drummond  joined  him. 

"A  lady's  handkerchief,  lieutenant,"  he  quietly  said. 
11  They  seem  to  have  halted  here  a  moment :  you  can 
tell  by  the  hoof-prints.  One  of  their  number  rode 
over  towards  that  high  point  yonder  and  rejoined  them 
here.  I  don't  believe  they  are  more  than  half  an  hour 
ahead." 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  143 

Drummond  reverently  took  the  dainty  kerchief, 
hurriedly  searched  for  an  initial  or  a  name,  and  found 
the  letters  "  R.  H."  in  monogram  in  one  corner. 

"  Push  on,  then,  Lee  !  Here,  one  more  of  you, — 
you,  Bennet,  join  the  sergeant.  Look  alive  now,  but 
do  not  let  yourselves  be  seen  from  the  front." 

Then  as  they  hastened  away  he  stowed  the  filmy 
trifle  in  the  pocket  of  his  blouse,  and,  drawing  his  Colt 
from  the  holster,  closely  inspected  its  loaded  chambers. 
Only  a  boy,  barely  twenty-three,  yet  rich  in  soldierly 
experience  already  was  Drummoud.  He  had  entered 
the  Point  when  just  seventeen.  His  father's  death, 
occurring  immediately  before  the  memorable  summer 
of  their  first  class  camp,  had  thrown  him  perforce  into 
the  society  of  the  so-called  bachelor  club,  and  he  was 
graduated  in  the  June  of  the  following  year  with  a 
heart  as  whole  as  his  physique  was  fine.  But  there 
were  some  cares  to  cloud  his  young  life  in  the  army, — 
a  sister  whose  needs  were  many  and  whose  means  were 
few.  He  found  that  rigid  economy  and  self-denial 
were  to  be  his  portion  from  the  start,  and  was  not  sorry 
that  his  assignment  took  him  to  the  far-away  land  of 
Arizona,  where,  as  his  new  captain  wrote  him,  "  you 
can  live  like  a  prince  on  bacon  and  frijoles,  dress  like  a 
cow-boy  on  next  to  nothing  or  like  an  Apache  in  next 
to  nothing,  spend  all  your  days  and  none  of  your 
money  in  mountain  scouting,  and  come  out  of  it  all  in 


144  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

two  or  three  years  rich  in  health  and  strength  and  ex- 
perience and  infinitely  better  off  financially  than  you 
could  ever  have  been  anywhere  else.  Leave  whiskey 
and  poker  alone  and  you're  all  right." 

He  had  left  whiskey  and  poker  alone,  severely  alone. 
He  had  sought  every  opportunity  for  field  service ;  had 
shown  indomitable  push,  pluck,  and  skill  in  pursuit  of 
Apaches  and  cool  courage  in  action.  He  had  been  able 
to  send  even  more  than  was  needed,  or  that  he  had 
hoped,  to  his  sister's  guardian,  and  was  proud  and 
happy  in  the  consciousness  of  a  duty  well  done.  There 
were  no  young  girls  in  the  scattered  garrisons  of  those 
days,  no  feminine  attractions  to  unsettle  his  peace  of 
mind.  The  few  women  who  accompanied  their  lords 
to  such  exile  as  Arizona  were  discreet  matrons,  to  whom 
he  was  courtesy  itself  on  the  few  occasions  when  they 
met,  but  only  once  had  he  been  brought  under  the  in- 
fluence of  girlish  eyes  or  of  girlish  society,  and  that 
was  on  the  memorable  trip  to  San  Francisco  during  the 
previous  year  when  he  had  had  the  great  good  fortune 
to  be  summoned  as  a  witness  before  a  general  court- 
martial  convened  at  the  Presidio.  He  had  been  pre- 
sented to  the  Harvey  sisters  by  the  captain  of  the 
"  Newbern"  and  would  fain  have  shown  them  some  at- 
tention, but  there  had  been  much  rough  weather  in  the 
Gulf  which  kept  the  girls  below,  and  not  until  after 
passing  Cape  San  Lucas  and  they  were  steaming  up  the 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  145 

sunny  Pacific  did  he  see  either  of  them  again.  Then 
one  glorious  day  the  trolling-lines  were  out  astern,  the 
elders  were  amidship  playing  "  horse  billiards,"  and 
"  Tuck,"  the  genial  purser,  was  devoting  himself  to 
Paquita,  when  Drunimond  heard  a  scream  of  excite- 
ment and  delight,  and  saw  the  younger  sister  bracing 
her  tiny,  slender  feet  and  hanging  on  to  a  line  with  all 
her  strength.  In  an  instant  he  was  at  her  side,  and 
together,  hand  over  hand,  they  finally  succeeded  in 
pulling  aboard  a  beautiful  dolphin,  and  landed  him, 
leaping,  flapping,  splashing  madly  about,  in  the  midst 
of  the  merry  party  on  the  deck.  It  was  the  first  time 
Ruth  had  seen  the  gorgeous  hues  of  this  celebrated 
fish,  and  her  excitement  and  pleasure  over  being 
heralded  as  its  captor  were  most  natural.  From  that 
time  on  she  had  pinned  her  girlish  faith  to  the  coat- 
sleeve  of  the  tall,  reserved  young  cavalryman.  To 
him  she  was  a  child,  even  younger  by  a  year  than  the 
little  sister  he  had  left,  and  of  whom  he  soon  began  to 
tell  her.  To  her  he  was  a  young  knight-errant,  the 
hero  of  a  budding  maiden's  shyest,  sweetest,  fondest 
fancy,  and  ere  long  the  idol  of  the  dreams  and  thoughts 
she  dared  not  whisper  even  to  herself.  Paquita,  with 
the  wisdom  of  elder  sisterhood,  more  than  half  be- 
lieved she  read  the  younger's  heart,  but  wisely  held  her 
peace.  No  wonder  the  little  maid  had  so  suddenly 
been  silenced  by  the  announcement  at  the  pass  that 
q       k  23 


146  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

that  very  night  she  might  again  see  the  soldier  boy  to 
whom,  in  the  absence  of  all  others,  her  heart  had  been 
so  constant.  No  wonder  the  ride  forward  to  Moreno's 
was  one  of  thrilling  excitement  and  shy  delight  and 
anticipation;  no  wonder  her  reason,  her  very  life, 
seemed  wrecked  in  the  tragic  fate  that  there  befell 
them. 

And  now  as  he  rode  swiftly  in  pursuit  Drummond 
was  thinking  over  the  incidents  of  that  delightful 
voyage,  and  marvelling  at  the  strange  fate  that  had 
brought  the  Harvey  girls  again  into  his  life  and  under 
circumstances  so  thrilling.  Never  for  an  instant  would 
he  doubt  that  before  the  sun  could  reach  meridian  he 
should  overtake  and  rescue  them  from  the  hands  of 
their  cowardly  captors.  Never  would  he  entertain  the 
thought  of  sustained  defence  on  part  of  the  outlaw 
band.  Full  of  high  contempt  for  such  cattle,  he 
argued  that  no  sooner  were  they  assured  that  the  cav- 
alry were  close  at  their  heels  than  most  of  their  num- 
ber would  scatter  for  their  lives,  leaving  Pasqual  to 
his  fate,  and  probably  abandoning  the  wagons  and 
their  precious  contents  on  the  road.  A  sudden  dash, 
a  surprise,  would  insure  success.  The  only  fear  he 
had  was  that  in  the  excitement  of  attack  some  harm 
might  befall  those  precious  lives.  To  avert  this  he 
gave  orders  to  be  passed  back  along  the  column  to  fire 
no  shot  until  they  had  closed  with  the  band,  and  then 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  147 

to  be  most  careful  to  aim  wide  of  the  wagons.  Every 
man  in  the  little  troop  well  knew  how  much  was  at 
stake,  and  men,  all  mercy  to  their  beasts  at  other  times, 
were  now  plying  the  cruel  spur. 

Five,  six  o'clock  had  come  and  gone.  The  chase 
was  still  out  of  sight  ahead,  yet  every  moment  seemed 
to  bring  them  closer  upon  their  heels.  At  every  bend 
of  the  tortuous  trail  the  leader's  eye  was  strained  to 
see  the  dust-cloud  rising  ahead.  But  jutting  point  and 
rolling  shoulder  of  bluff  or  hill-side  ever  interposed. 
Drummond  had  just  glanced  at  his  watch  for  perhaps 
the  twentieth  time  since  daybreak  and  was  replacing 
it  in  his  pocket  when  an  exclamation  from  Sergeant 
Meinecke  startled  him. 

"  Look  at  Lee  !" 

The  head  of  column,  moving  at  the  moment  at  a 
walk  to  rest  the  panting  horses,  had  just  turned  a 
rocky  knoll  and  was  following  the  trail  into  a  broader 
reach  of  the  caflon,  which  now  seemed  opening  out  to 
the  west.  Instead  of  keeping  in  the  bottom  as  here- 
tofore, the  wagon-track  now  followed  a  gentle  ascent 
and  disappeared  over  a  spur  four  hundred  yards  ahead. 
Here  Lee  had  suddenly  flung  himself  from  his  horse, 
thrown  the  reins  to  Patterson,  and,  crouching  behind 
a  bowlder,  was  gazing  eagerly  to  the  front,  while  with 
hat  in  hand  he  was  signalling  "  Slow ;  keep  down." 
Up  went  Drummond's  gauntlet  in  the  well-known 


148  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

cavalry  signal  "  Halt."  Then,  bidding  Meinecke  dis- 
mount the  men  and  reset  blankets  and  saddles,  the 
young  officer  gave  "Chester"  rein  and  was  soon 
kneeling  by  the  side  of  his  trusty  subordinate. 

Lee  said  no  word  at  all,  simply  pointed  ahead. 

And  here  was  a  sight  to  make  a  soldier's  pulses 
bound.  Not  a  quarter-mile  away  the  rocky,  desolate 
gorge  which  they  had  been  following  since  dawn  opened 
out  into  a  wide  valley,  bounded  at  the  west  by  a  range 
of  rugged  heights  whose  sides  were  bearded  with  a  dark 
growth  of  stunted  pine  or  cedar.  On  each  side  of 
their  path  a  tall,  precipitous  rock  stood  sentry  over 
the  entrance  and  framed  the  view  of  the  valley  beyond. 
For  full  a  mile  ahead  the  trail  swept  straight  away, 
descending  gently  to  the  valley  level,  and  there,  just 
pushing  forth  upon  the  wide  expanse,  with  dots  of 
horsemen  on  flank  and  front  and  rear,  dimly  seen 
through  the  hot  dust-cloud  rising  in  their  wake,  were 
the  three  wagons :  the  foremost,  with  its  white  canvas 
top,  was  undoubtedly  the  new  Concord ;  the  second,  a 
dingy  mustard-yellow,  the  battered  old  ambulance  of 
the  paymaster ;  the  third  and  last,  with  no  cover  at 
all,  Moreno's  buck-board.  It  was  what  was  left  of 
the  notorious  Morales  gang,  speeding  with  its  plunder 
to  some  refuge  in  the  rocky  range  across  the  farther 
valley. 

Somewhere  in   the  few  evenings   Drummond   had 


FOES  IN  AMBUSS.  149 

spent  in  the  garrisons  of  Lowell,  Bowie,  or  Stoneman, 
he  had  heard  mention  of  a  mysterious  hiding-place  in 
the  Cababi  Mountains  whither,  when  pressed  by  sher- 
iffs' posses,  Pasqual  Morales  had  been  wont  to  flee 
with  his  chosen  followers  and  there  bid  defiance  to 
pursuit.  And  now  the  young  soldier  saw  at  a  glance 
that  the  chase  was  heading  along  a  fairly  well  defined 
track  straight  for  a  dark,  frowning  gorge  in  the  moun- 
tains some  three  or  four  miles  ahead  of  them.  If  al- 
lowed to  gain  that  refuge  it  might  be  possible  for  Morales 
to  successfully  resist  attack.  With  quick  decision 
Drummond  turned  to  the  men  still  seated  in  saddle. 

"  Dismount  where  you  are,  you  two.  Reset  all  four 
saddles.  We  mount  again  here,  sergeant,  and  we'll 
take  the  gallop  as  soon  as  the  troop  comes  up." 

"  It's  the  only  way,  I  believe,  sir,"  answered  Lee, 
his  eyes  kindling,  his  lips  quivering  with  pent  excite- 
ment. "Most  of  them  will  stampede,  I  reckon,  if 
we  strike  them  in  the  open.  But  once  they  get  among 
the  rocks,  we'd  have  no  chance  at  all." 

Drummond  merely  nodded.  Field-glasses  in  hand 
he  was  closely  studying  the  receding  party,  moving 
now  at  leisurely  gait  as  though  assured  of  safety. 
His  heart  was  beating  hard,  his  blood  was  bounding 
in  his  veins.  He  had  had  some  lively  brushes  with  the 
Indian  foe,  but  no  such  scrimmage  as  this  promised  to 
be.     Never  once  had  there  been  at  stake  anything  to 

13* 


150  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

compare  with  what  lay  here  before  his  eyes.  Some- 
times in  boyish  day-dreams  he  had  pictured  to  himself 
adventures  of  this  character, — the  rescue  of  imperilled 
beauty  from  marauding  foe ;  but  never  had  he  thought 
it  possible  that  it  would  actually  be  his  fortune  to 
stand  first  in  the  field,  riding  to  the  rescue  of  the  fair 
daughters  of  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  respected  citi- 
zens of  the  Territory.  In  view  of  their  peril  the  pay- 
master's stolen  funds  were  not  be  considered.  Jim 
Drummond  hardly  gave  a  single  thought  to  the  recap- 
ture of  the  safe.  So  far  as  he  could  judge  the  forces 
were  about  equally  matched.  Some  saddle-horses  led 
along  after  the  wagons  seemed  to  indicate  that  their 
usual  riders  were,  perhaps,  with  others  of  the  band,  rest- 
ing in  the  wagons  themselves.  Surprise  now  was  out 
of  the  question.  He  would  marshal  his  men  behind  the 
low  ridge  on  which  he  lay,  form  line,  then  move  for- 
ward at  the  lope.  No  matter  how  noiseless  might  be 
the  advance,  or  how  wearied  or  absorbed  their  quarry, 
some  one  in  the  outlaw  gang  would  surely  see  them 
long  before  they  could  come  within  close  range.  Then 
he  felt  sure  that  a  portion  at  least  would  stampede  for 
the  hills,  and  that  he  would  not  have  to  fight  more 
than  ten  or  a  dozen.  His  plan  was  at  all  hazards  to 
cut  out,  recapture,  and  hold  Harvey's  wagon.  That, 
first  of  all ;  then,  if  possible,  the  others. 
And  now  the  time  had  come.     In  eager  but  sup 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  151 

pressed  excitement  Meineckeand  the  men  came  trotting 
up  the  slope. 

"  Halt !"  signalled  Drummond ;  then  "  Forward 
into  line/'  and  presently  the  lieutenant  stood  looking 
into  the  sun-tanned  faces  of  less  than  twenty  veteran 
troopers,  four  sets  of  fours  with  two  sergeants,  dusty 
and  devil-may-care,  with  horses  jaded,  yet  sniffing  mis- 
chief ahead  and  pricking  up  their  ears  in  excitement. 
Drummond  had  been  the  troop  leader  in  scout  after 
scout  and  in  several  lively  skirmishes  during  the  year 
gone  by.  There  was  not  one  of  his  troopers  whom  he 
could  not  swear  by,  thought  he,  but  then  the  recol- 
lection of  Bland's  treachery  brought  his  teeth  together 
with  vengeful  force.  He  found  his  voice  a  trifle 
tremulous  as  he  spoke,  but  his  words  had  the  brave 
ring  the  men  had  learned  to  look  for,  and  every  one 
listened  with  bated  breath. 

"  Our  work's  cut  out  for  us  here.  Not  more  than  a 
mile  ahead  now  is  just  the  worst  band  of  scoundrels 
in  all  the  West,  and  in  their  midst  George  Harvey's 
daughters.  You  all  know  him  by  reputation.  They 
are  in  the  white-topped  wagon,  and  that  is  the  one  we 
must  and  shall  have.  Don't  charge  till  I  give  the 
word.  Don't  waste  a  shot.  Some  of  them  will  scat- 
ter. Let  them  go  !  What  we  want  is  their  captives." 
With  that  he  swung  quickly  into  saddle. 

"  Ready  now  ?     No  !  don't  draw  pistol  till  you're 


152  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

close  in  on  them,  and  no  carbines  at  all  this  time.  All 
right.  Now — steady. — Keep  your  alignment.  Take 
the  pace  from  me.     Forward  !" 

Up  the  gentle  slope  they  rode,  straining  their  eyes 
for  the  first  sight  of  the  hunted  quarry,  opening  out 
instinctively  from  the  centre  so  that  each  trooper  might 
have  fighting  space.  No  squares  of  disciplined  infan- 
try, no  opposing  squadrons,  no  fire-flashing  lines  were 
to  be  met  and  overthrown  by  compact  and  instantaneous 
shock.  It  was  to  be  a  milSe,  as  each  trooper  well  knew, 
in  which,  though  obedient  to  the  general  plan  of  their 
leader,  the  little  detachment  would  be  hurled  forward 
at  the  signal  "  Charge,"  and  then  it  would  be  practically 
a  case  of  "  every  man  for  himself." 

"  I  want  you  four  fellows  to  stick  close  to  me  now," 
said  Drummond,  turning  in  saddle  and  indicating  the 
desired  set  with  a  single  gesture.  "  We  move  straight 
for  the  leading  wagon.  See  that  you  don't  fire  into  it 
or  near  it." 

And  these  were  the  last  instructions  as  they  reached 
the  ridge,  and  a  hoarse  murmur  flew  along  the  eager 
rank,  a  murmur  that,  but  for  Drummond's  raised  and 
restraining  hand  and  Sergeant  Lee's  prompt  "  Steady 
there  ;  silence !"  might  have  burst  into  a  cheer.  And 
then  the  leader  shook  loose  his  rein,  and  just  touching 
"  Chester's"  glossy  flank  with  the  spur,  bounded  for- 
ward at  the  lope. 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  153 

Out  on  the  sandy  barren,  winding  among  the  cactus 
plants,  the  weary  mule-teams  with  drooping  heads  were 
tugging  at  the  traces.  Bearded  men,  some  still  with 
coal-blackened  faces,  rode  drowsily  alongside  the  creak- 
ing wagons.  In  one  of  these,  the  foremost,  an  arm  in 
blue  flannel  suddenly  thrust  aside  the  hanging  canvas 
curtain,  and  a  dark,  swarthy  face,  grooved  from  ear-tip 
to  jaw  with  a  jagged  scar,  appeared  at  the  narrow 
opening. 

"  How  much  farther  have  we  got  to  go,  Domingo  ?" 

"Only  across  this  stretch,  two — three  miles,  per- 
haps." 

"  "Well,  I  want  to  know  exactly.  The  sun  is  getting 
blazing  hot  and  these  girls  can't  hold  out  longer.  Tell 
Pasqual  I  say  there  is  more  danger  of  his  killing  them 
with  exhaustion  than  there  is  of  their  making  way 
with  themselves.  Say  the  little  one's  about  dead  now. 
Here,  take  this  canteen  and  get  some  fresher  water  out 
of  the  barrel  under  the  wagon." 

The  fellow  hailed  as  Domingo  leaned  to  the  right, 
took  the  canteen -strap,  and  then  reined  in  his  foaming 
broncho. 

"  Hold  your  team  one  minute,  Jake,"  was  the  order 
to  the  driver,  and,  nothing  loath,  the  mules  stopped 
short  in  their  tracks.  Pasqual's  ambulance  was  a  few 
rods  behind,  and,  to  save  time,  Domingo  dismounted 
and,  placing  the  canteen  under  the  spigot,  drew  it  foil 


154  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

of  water,  rewarded  himself  with  a  long  pull,  handed 
it  up  to  the  waiting  hand  above,  and  swung  again  in 
the  saddle  just  as  the  second  ambulance  closing  on  the 
first  came  also  to  a  willing  halt,  and  the  lead  mules 
of  the  buck-board,  whereon  lay  two  wounded  bandits, 
attended  by  Moreno's  womenfolk,  bumped  their  noses 
against  the  projecting  boot. 

"  Some  cool  water,  for  God's  sake  !"  gasped  one  of 
the  prostrate  men,  and  a  comrade  rode  to  the  leading 
wagon  to  beg  a  little  from  Harvey's  well-filled  barrel. 
One  or  two  men  threw  themselves  from  the  saddle  to 
the  sands  for  brief  rest.  The  dust-cloud  slowly  settled 
earthwards  in  their  wake.  Mules,  horses,  and  men 
blinked  sleepily,  wearily.  There  hung  in  the  heavy 
air  a  dull,  low  rumble  as  of  thunder  in  the  far-off 
mountains.  There  seemed  a  faint  quiver  and  tremor 
of  the  soil.     Was  there  distant  earthquake  ? 

Suddenly  a  wild  yell,  a  scream  from  Moreno's  buck- 
board,  a  half-stifled  shriek  from  the  white-covered 
wagon.  The  man  in  blue  leaped  forth  and  made  a 
mad  dash  for  the  nearest  riderless  horse.  Whips 
cracked  and  bit  and  stung.  The  maddened  mules 
flew  at  their  collars  and  tore  away,  the  wagons  bound- 
ing after  them,  and  Pasqual  Morales,  thrusting  forth 
his  head  to  learn  the  cause  of  all  the  panic,  grabbed 
the  revolver  at  his  belt  with  one  fierce  curse. 

"Carajo!" 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  155 


VIII. 

"Whatever  might  have  been  his  other  moral  attri- 
butes, Pasqual  Morales  had  borne  a  name  for  des- 
perate courage  that  seemed  justified  in  this  supreme 
moment  of  surprise  and  stampede.  What  he  saw  as 
he  leaned  out  of  the  bounding  vehicle  was  certainly 
enough  to  disgust  a  bandit  and  demoralize  many  a 
leader.  Scattering  like  chaff  before  the  gale  his  fol- 
lowers were  scudding  out  across  the  desert,  every  man 
for  himself,  as  though  the  very  devil  were  in  pursuit 
of  each  individual  member  of  the  gang.  Eight  or 
ten  at  least,  spurring,  lashing  their  horses  to  the  top 
of  their  speed,  were  already  far  beyond  reach  of  his 
voice.  Close  at  hand,  however,  six  or  seven  of  the 
fellows,  desperadoes  of  the  first  water,  had  unslung 
their  Henry  rifles  and,  blazing  away  for  all  they  were 
worth,  showed  evidence  of  a  determination  to  die 
game.  Behind  them,  screaming  at  the  tops  of  their 
shrill,  strident  voices,  Sefiora  Moreno  and  her  daugh- 
ter were  clinging  stoutly  to  the  iron  rail  of  their  seats 
as  the  buck-board  was  whirled  and  dashed  across  the 
plain.     Already  both  the  wounded  men  had  been  flung 


156  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

helplessly  out  upon  the  sands,  and,  even  as  he  looked, 
the  off  fore  wheel  struck  a  stout  cactus  stump ;  flew 
iuto  fragments;  the  tire  rolled  off  in  one  direction,  and 
Moreno's  luckless  family  shot,  comet-like,  into  space 
and  fetched  up  shrieking  in  the  midst  of  a  plentiful 
crop  of  thorns  and  spines.  The  husband  and  father, 
gazing  upon  the  incident  from  over  his  shoulder  and 
afar,  blessed  the  saints  for  their  beneficence  in  having 
landed  his  loved  ones  on  soft  soil  instead  of  among 
the  jagged  rocks  across  the  plain.  But  for  himself  the 
sooner  he  reached  the  rocks  the  better.  A  tall  Gringo, 
who  cast  aside  a  dark-blue  blouse  as  he  rode,  stooping 
low  over  his  horse's  neck,  seemed  bent  on  racing  the 
late  ranch-owner  to  the  goal  where  both  would  be,  and 
there  was  none  to  dispute  with  them  the  doubtful 
honor.  Even  those  who  had  stampeded  at  the  first 
yell  of  alarm  were  now  reining  back  in  broad,  sweep- 
ing circle,  unslinging  the  ready  rifle  and  pouring  in  a 
long-range  fire  on  the  distant  rank  of  cavalry,  just 
bursting  into  the  triumph  of  the  charge.  Here,  there, 
and  everywhere  across  the  plain  little  puffs  of  blue- 
white  smoke  were  shooting  up,  telling  of  the  leaden 
missiles  hurled  at  the  charging  line.  But  on  like  the 
wind  came  the  troopers  in  blue,  never  pausing  to  fire 
a  shot,  their  leader  at  racing  speed. 

Wounded  though  he  was,  Pasqual  Morales  was  not 
the  man   to  fail   in  the   fight.     Yelling   orders   and 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  157 

curses  at  his  driver,  he  succeeded  in  getting  him  to  con- 
trol his  frantic  team  just  long  enough  to  enable  the 
outlaw  captain  to  tumble  out.  Then  away  they  dashed 
again,  the  stiffening  body  of  Ramon  and  the  weighty 
little  safe  being  now  sole  occupants  of  the  interior. 
In  the  mad  excitement  of  the  first  rush  two  or  three 
horses  had  broken  loose,  leaving  their  owners  afoot, 
and  believing  that  no  quarter  would  be  the  rule,  these 
abandoned  roughs  were  fighting  to  the  last,  selling  their 
lives,  as  they  called  it,  as  dearly  as  possible.  From 
their  rifles  and  from  others  the  shots  rained  fast  upon 
the  troopers,  but  never  seemed  to  check  the  charge. 
The  rush  was  glorious.  Drawing  their  revolvers  now, 
for  they  carried  no  sabres,  the  soldiers  fired  as  they 
rode  down  those  would-be  obstructers,  and  two  poor 
wretches  were  flattened  out  upon  the  plain  when  the 
main  body  of  the  troop  dashed  by,  making  straight  for 
the  fleeing  Concord  with  the  white  canvas  top.  Drum- 
mond  had  not  fired  at  all.  Every  thought  was  concen- 
trated on  the  occupants  of  the  wagon.  Every  shot 
might  be  needed  when  he  got  to  them.  "  Chester"  was 
running  grandly.  The  designated  four  who  were  to 
follow  the  lieutenant  were  already  over  a  hundred  yards 
behind  when,  from  the  trail  of  the  ambulance,  from  a 
little  patch  of  cactus,  there  came  a  flash  and  report,  and 
the  beautiful  horse  swerved,  reeled,  but  pushed  gamely 
on.    Noting  the  spot,  two  of  the  following  troopers 

14 


158  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

emptied  a  cartridge  into  the  clump,  but  left  the  lurking 
foe  to  be  looked  after  later.  They  were  too  close  to 
the  Concord  to  think  of  anything  else, — so  close  they 
could  hear  the  cries  and  pleadings  of  a  woman's  voice, 
the  terrified  scream  of  another,  and  then,  all  on  a 
sudden,  "  Chester"  pitched  heavily  forward,  and,  even 
as  the  wagon  came  to  a  sudden  stand,  the  gallant  steed 
rolled  over  and  over,  his  rider  underneath  him. 

When  Lieutenant  Drummond  regained  his  senses 
he  found  himself  unable  to  believe  them.  Conscious 
at  first  only  of  being  terribly  bruised  and  shaken,  he 
realized  that  he  was  being  borne  along  in  some  wheeled 
vehicle,  moving  with  slow  and  decorous  pace  over  a 
soft  yet  unbeaten  and  irregular  trail.  Conscious  of 
fierce  white  light  and  heat  about  him  on  every  side,  he 
was  aware  of  a  moist,  cool,  dark  bandage  over  his  eyes 
that  prevented  him  from  seeing.  Striving  to  raise  a 
hand  to  sweep  the  blinding  cloth  away,  he  met  rebel- 
lion. A  sudden  spasm  of  pain  that  made  him  wince, 
the  quick  contraction  of  his  features,  the  low  moan  of 
distress,  were  answered  instantly  by  a  most  surprising 
wail  in  a  sweet  girlish  voice. 

"  Oh,  Fanny,  see  how  he  suffers  !  Can't  something 
be  done  ?" 

And  then — could  he  be  mistaken? — soft,  slende* 
fingers  were  caressing  the  close-cropped  hair  about  hitj 
temples.     A  glow  of  delight  and   rejoicing  thrilled 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  159 

through  his  frame  as  he  realized  that  the  main  object 
of  the  fierce  and  determined  pursuit  was  accomplished, 
that  the  precious  freight  was  rescued  from  the  robber 
band,  and  that  somehow — somehow  he  himself  was 
now  a  prisoner. 

Striving  to  move  his  head,  he  found  it  softly,  warmly 
pillowed  ;  but  as  he  attempted  to  turn,  it  was  held  in 
place  by  two  little  hands,  one  on  each  side.  Then  as 
he  found  his  voice  and  faintly  protested  that  he  was 
all  right  and  wanted  to  look  about  him,  another  hand 
quickly  removed  the  bandage,  and  Fanny  Harvey's 
lovely  face,  pale  and  framed  with  much  dishevelled 
hair,  was  bending  anxiously  over  him ;  but  a  smile 
of  hope,  even  of  joy,  was  parting  the  soft  lips  as  she 
saw  the  light  of  returning  reason  in  his  eyes.  At  this 
same  instant,  too,  the  hands  that  supported  his  face 
were  suddenly  drawn  away,  and  his  pillow  became 
unstable.  One  quick  glance  told  him  the  situation. 
The  seats  of  the  Concord  had  been  lifted  out,  blankets 
had  been  spread  within ;  he  was  lying  at  full  length, 
his  aching  head  supported  in  Ruth  Harvey's  lap. 
Fanny,  her  elder  sister,  was  seated  facing  him,  but  at 
his  side.  No  wonder  Jim  Drummond  could  not  quite 
believe  his  senses. 

It  was  Fanny  who  first  recovered  her  self-poise. 
Throwing  back  the  hanging  curtain  at  the  side,  she 
called  aloud, — 


160  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

"  Mr.  Wing,  come  to  us  !     He's  conscious." 

And  the  next  instant  the  slow  motion  of  the  wagon 
ceased,  the  door  was  wrenched  open,  and  there  in  the 
glowing  sunshine  stood  the  tall  sergeant  whom  he  last 
had  seen  when  scouting  through  Picacho  Pass. 

"  Bravo,  lieutenant !  You're  all  right,  though  you 
must  be  in  some  pain.  Can  you  stand  a  little  more? 
We're  close  to  the  caves  now,— -cool  water  and  cool 
shade  not  five  hundred  yards  ahead." 

"How  did  you  get  here,  sergeant?"  Drummond 
weakly  questioned.     "  Where  are  the  others  ?" 

"  Followed  on  your  trail,  sir,  Private  Pike  and  I. 
Most  of  the  men  are  gathering  up  prisoners  and 
plunder.  You've  made  the  grandest  haul  in  all  the 
history  of  Arizona.  I  got  up  only  just  in  time  to  see 
the  charge,  and  Pike's  now  on  his  way  back  already 
with  the  good  news.  We  are  taking  you  aud  the 
ladies  to  the  refuge  in  the  rocks  where  Morales  and 
all  his  people  have  hid  so  long.  Old  Moreno,  with  a 
lariat  around  his  neck,  is  showing  the  way." 

"  Got  him,  did  you  ?  I'm  glad  of  that.  There  was 
another, — a  deserter  from  my  troop ;  did  you  see  any- 
thing of  him  ?" 

"  I  haven't  heard  yet,  sir.  One  thing's  certain,  old 
Pasqual  is  with  his  hopeful  brother  in  another  if  not 
&  better  world.  'Twas  he  that  killed  poor  '  Chester/ 
the  worst  loss  we've  met.     Not  a  man  is  hit,  and  by 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  161 

daybreak  to-morrow  Dr.  Day  from  Stoneman  will  be 
here  to  straighten  you  out,  and  these  young  ladies' 
father  here  to  thank  you." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Drummond  ?  Ah,  how  can  he  or 
I  ever  begin  to  thank  you  and  your  brave  fellows  half 
enough  ?  I  had  lost  all  hope  until  that  disguised  ban- 
dit suddenly  leaped  from  the  wagon,  and  Ruth  was 
swooning  again,  but  she  heard  your  voice  before  I  did. 
'Twas  she  who  saw  your  charge."  And  Fanny  Har- 
vey's lips  quivered  as  she  spoke,  and  the  voice  that  was 
so  brave  at  the  siege  became  weak  and  tremulous  now. 

Drummond  closed  his  eyes  a  moment.  It  was  all 
too  sweet  to  be  believed.  His  right  hand,  to  be  sure, 
refused  to  move,  his  left  stole  up  and  began  groping 
back  of  his  head. 

"May  I  not  thank  my  nurse?"  he  said.  "The  first 
thing  I  was  conscious  of  was  her  touch  upon  my  fore- 
head." 

But  the  hands  that  were  so  eager,  so  active  when 
their  patient  lay  unconscious,  seemed  to  shrink  from 
the  long,  brown  fingers  searching  blindly  for  them, 
and  not  one  word  had  the  maiden  vouchsafed. 

"  I  heard  your  voice  a  moment  ago,  Ruthie.  Can't 
you  speak  to  me  now  ?"  he  asked,  half  chiding,  half 
laughing.  "Have  you  forgotten  your  friend  Jim 
Drummond  and  the  long,  long  talks  we  used  to  have 
on  the  *  Newbern'  ?" 

I  H* 


162  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

Forgotten  Jim  Drummond  and  those  long  talks  in* 
deed !  Forgotten  her  hero,  her  soldier !  Hardly. 
Yet  no  word  would  she  speak. 

"  The  little  lady  seems  all  unstrung  yet,  lieutenant. 
Miss  Fanny  will  have  to  talk  for  her,  I  fancy."  And 
Wing's  clear,  handsome  eyes  were  raised  to  Miss  Har- 
vey's face  as  he  spoke  in  a  look  that  seemed  to  tell  how 
much  he  envied  the  soldier  who  was  the  object  of  such 
devoted  attention.  "Shall  we  move  ahead?  The 
others  will  join  us  later  on." 

But  when  a  few  minutes  later  strong  arms  lifted  the 
tall  lieutenant  from  the  wagon  and  bore  him  to  a 
blanket-covered  shelter  in  a  deep  rocky  recess  where 
the  sun's  rays  seemed  rarely  to  penetrate,  and  a  cup  of 
clear,  cool  water  was  held  to  his  lips,  Drummond's  one 
available  hand  was  uplifted  in  hopes  of  capturing  the 
ministering  fingers.  There  was  neither  difficulty  nor 
resistance.  It  was  Sergeant  Wing's  gauntlet,  and 
Wing's  cordial  voice  again  accosted  him. 

"  Glad  to  see  you  so  chipper,  lieutenant.  Now,  I 
have  some  little  knowledge  of  surgery.  Your  right 
arm  is  broken  below  the  elbow,  and  you're  badly 
shocked  and  bruised.  I  have  no  doubt  the  surgeon 
will  be  with  us  by  this  time  to-morrow,  but  I  can  set 
that  arm  just  as  soon  as  I  have  looked  the  ground 
over  and  disposed  of  ourselves  and  our  prisoners  to 
the  best  advantage." 


FOES  JN  AMBUSH.  1G3 

i    "  How  many  prisoners  have  we?"  asked  Drummond. 

"  Well,  as  yet,  only  Moreno  and  his  interesting 
family  and  two  of  their  gang,  who  are  very  badly 
wounded.  Some  of  the  others  were  neither  prompt 
nor  explicit  about  surrendering,  and  the  men  seem  to 
have  been  a  trifle  impatient  in  one  or  two  cases.  You 
should  hear  the  old  woman  protesting  to  Miss  Harvey 
her  innocence  and  her  husband's  spotless  character. 
You  understand  Spanish,  do  you  not  ?" 

"  No,  only  the  smattering  we  pick  up  at  the  Point 
and  what  '  broncho'  Spanish  I  have  added  to  it  out 
here.  When  did  you  learn  it,  sergeant?  They  tell 
me  you  speak  it  like  a  native." 

Wing's  sunburned  face — a  fine,  clear-cut,  and  manly 
one  it  was — seemed  to  grow  a  shade  or  two  redder. 

"  Oh,  I  have  spoken  it  many  years.  My  boyhood 
was  spent  on  the  Pacific  slope.  Pardon  me,  sir,  I  want 
to  look  more  carefully  after  your  injuries  now." 

"But  the  ladies,  where  are  they?"  asked  Drum- 
mond, uneasily. 

"  Occupying  the  sanctum  sanctorum,  the  innermost 
shrine  among  the  rocks.  This  is  a  wonderful  spot, 
sir.  We  might  eventually  have  starved  these  people 
out  if  once  they  got  here,  but  ten  determined  soldiers 
could  hold  it  against  ten  hundred.  I've  as  yet  had 
only  a  glance,  but  the  Morenos  have  been  here  before, 
it  is  most  evident,  for  the  seflorita  herself  showed  Miss 


164  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

Harvey  into  the  cave  reserved  for  the  women.  There 
they  have  cool  water,  cool  and  fresh  air,  and  complete 
shelter." 

And  now,  as  with  experienced  hands  the  sergeant 
stripped  off  Drummond's  hunting-shirt  and  carefully 
exposed  the  bruised  and  lacerated  arm  and  shoulder, 
he  plied  his  patient  with  questions  as  to  whether  ho 
felt  any  internal  pain  or  soreness.  "  Plow  a  man  could 
be  flattened  out  and  rolled  over  by  such  a  weight  and 
not  be  mashed  into  a  jelly  is  what  I  can't  understand. 
You're  about  as  elastic  as  ivory,  lieutenant,  and  you 
have  no  spare  flesh  about  you  either.  That  and  the 
good  luck  of  the  cavalryman  saved  you  from  worse 
fate.  You've  got  a  battered  head,  a  broken  arm,  and 
had  the  breath  knocked  out  of  you,  and  that's  about 
all.  But  we'll  have  you  on  your  feet  by  the  time  the 
fellows  come  from  Stoneman." 

"  But  how  about  the  young  ladies  ?"  again  asked 
Drummond,  wearily  and  anxiously,  for  his  head  was 
still  heavy  and  painful  and  his  anxiety  great.  He 
was  weak,  too,  from  the  shock.  "  Won't  they  suffer 
meantime?" 

"Well,  they  might, — at  least  Miss  Ruth,  the 
younger,  might  in  the  reaction  after  their  fearful  ex- 
perience ;  but  I'm  something  of  a  doctor,  as  I  said, 
and  I  shall  be  able  to  prevent  all  that,"_ 

"How?" 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  165 

""Well,  by  giving  her  something  to  do.  Just  as 
soon  as  they've  had  a  chance  to  rest,  both  young  ladies 
■will  be  put  on  duty.     Miss  Ruth  is  to  nurse  you." 

"  Suppose  she  doesn't  want  to  ?" 

"  The  case  isn't  supposable,  lieutenant.  She  would 
have  gone  into  hysterics  this  morning,  I  think,  had  she 
not  been  detailed,  as  a  preventive,  to  hold  your  head. 
At  all  events,  she  quieted  down  the  instant  she  was 
told  by  her  sister  to  climb  into  the  wagon  again  and  sit 
still  as  a  mouse  and  see  that  your  face  was  kept  cool 
and  moist  and  shaded  from  the  glare."  And  now 
Sergeant  Wing's  lips  were  twitching  with  merriment, 
and  Drummond,  hardly  knowing  how  to  account  for 
his  embarrassment,  asked  no  more.  His  amateur 
surgeon,  however,  chatted  blithely  on. 

"There's  an  abundant  store  of  provisions  here,  dried 
meat,  frijoles,  chile,  chocolate. — You  shall  have  a  cup 
in  a  moment. — There's  ammunition  in  plenty.  There's 
even  a  keg  of  mescal,  which,  saving  your  presence,  sir, 
as  I  am  temporary  commander,  shall  be  hidden  before 
the  men  begin  coming  in  with  their  prisoners.  There's 
barley  in  abundance  for  horses  and  mules  ;  water  to 
drink  and  water  to  bathe  in.  "We  could  hardly  be 
better  off  anywhere." 

Drummond  looked  curiously  about  him,  so  far  as 
was  possible  without  moving  his  pain-stricken  head. 
He  was  lying  in  a  deep  recess  in  some  dark  and  rocky 


166  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

cafion  whose  sides  were  vertical  walls.  Tumbling 
down  from  the  wooded  heights  above — rare  sight  in 
Arizona — a  little  brook  of  clear,  sparkling  water  came 
brawling  and  plashing  over  its  stony  bed  at  his  feet 
and  went  on  down  the  gorge  to  its  opening  on  the 
sandy  plain.  There,  presumably,  it  burrowed  into  the 
bosom  of  the  earth,  for  no  vestige  of  running  stream 
could  the  Cababi  Valley  show.  The  walls  about  him 
were  in  places  grimy  with  the  smoke  of  cook  fires. 
Overhead,  not  fifty  feet  away,  a  gnarled  and  stunted 
little  cedar  jutted  out  from  some  crevice  in  the  rocks 
and  stood  at  the  edge  of  the  cliff.  A  soldier  was 
clinging  to  it  with  one  hand  and  pointing  out  towards 
the  east  with  the  other.  Drummond  recognized  the 
voice  as  that  of  one  of  his  own  troop  when  the  man 
called  out, — 

"  Two  of  our  fellers  are  coming  with  the  old  yellow 
ambulance,  sergeant ;  but  I  can't  see  the  others." 

"  All  right,  Patterson.  Try  to  see  where  the  rest 
have  gone  and  what  they're  doing.  I'll  send  the  glass 
up  to  you  presently.  What  I'm  afraid  of,  lieutenant, 
is  that  in  their  rage  over  Donovan's  death,  and  Mul- 
lan's,  and  all  the  devil's  work  done  there  at  Moreno's, 
and  your  mishap,  too,  the  men  have  become  uncon- 
trollable, and  will  never  let  up  on  the  pursuit  until 
they  have  killed  the  last  one  of  that  gang.  These  two 
who  are  coming  in  with  the  bodies  of  the  Morales 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  167 

brothers  probably  have  worn-out  horses,  or  perhaps 
Lee  ordered  them  to  stay  and  guard  the  safe.  The 
last  I  saw  of  any  of  the  gang  they  were  disappearing 
over  the  desert  to  the  south,  striking  for  Sonora  Pass." 

"I  wonder  they  didn't  all  come  in  here,"  said 
Drummond. 

"  Well,  hardly  that,  lieutenant.  They  knew  they 
would  be  followed  here,  penned  up,  where  their  capture 
would  only  be  a  question  of  time.  A  hundred  cavalry- 
men would  be  around  them  in  a  very  few  hours,  and 
we  could  send  to  Lowell  for  those  old  mountain  howit- 
zers and  just  leisurely  shell  them  out.  Then,  when 
they  surrendered, — as  they'd  have  to, — the  civil  au- 
thorities would  immediately  step  in  and  claim  juris- 
diction, claim  the  prisoners,  too.  We'd  simply  have  to 
turn  them  over  to  justice  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  you 
know,  and  they  know,  that  the  only  judge  apt  to  sit  on 
their  case  would  be  that  of  our  eminent  frontiersman 
and  fellow-citizen, — Lynch.  They  are  scattering  like 
Apaches  through  the  mountains  and  will  reassemble 
and  count  noses  later  on.  Thanks  to  you  and  'C 
troop,  they  have  lost  all  they  had  gained  and  their 
leaders  besides.  No,  sir,  they  won't  stop  this  side  of 
the  Mexican  line." 

"  There's  one,  Wing,  I  hope  to  heaven  they'll  never 
lose  sight  of  till  they  run  him  down." 

"Who's  that,  sir?" 


168  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

"The  fellow  who  was  enlisted  in  'C  troop  last 
winter  at  Tucson  and  who  deserted  last  night  to  join 
this  gang.  He  drove  for  the  stage  company  last  year 
and  was  discharged.     He  gave  his  name  as  Bland." 

"  Bland !  Henry  Bland  !"  exclaimed  Sergeant  Wing, 
leaping  to  his  feet  in  uncontrollable  excitement.  "  Do 
you  mean  it,  sir?  Had  he  enlisted?  Do  you  mean 
that  he  was  the  man  Miss  Harvey  spoke  of, — the  dis- 
guised soldier  she  called  him  ?" 

And  Drummond,  amazed  at  Wing's  emotion,  gazed 
up  to  see  the  sergeant's  features  working  almost  con- 
vulsively, his  face  paling,  his  eyes  full  of  intense 
anxiety. 

"  Why,  I  cannot  doubt  it,  sergeant.  He  ran  away 
from  us  on  the  discovery  of  Donovan's  body  and  rode 
straight  for  Moreno's,  beating  us  there  probably  by  an 
hour  or  so,  for  no  one  happened  to  miss  him." 

Wing's  hands  were  raised  on  high  in  a  gesture 
almost  tragic,  then  dropped  helplessly  by  his  side. 
With  a  stifled  groan  the  tall  soldier  turned  abruptly 
away  and  went  striding  towards  the  opening  of  the 
cafion,  leaving  Drummond  wondering  and  perplexed. 

When,  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  the  sergeant  re- 
turned, bringing  with  him  some  improvised  splints 
and  bandages,  and  Drummond  believed  it  his  duty  to 
make  inquiry  as  to  whether  he  knew  Bland  and  what 
was  the  cause  of  his   excitement,  Wing  turned  his 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  169 

grave,  troubled  face  and  looked  his  young  superior 
straight  in  the  eye. 

"  Mr.  Drummond,  I  have  known  that  man  for  good 
and  for  ill  many  a  long  year.  If  our  fellows  have 
killed  him,  let  his  crimes  die  with  him.  If  he  is 
'brought  in  alive, — brought  to  trial, — I  may  have  to 
speak,  but  not  now,  sir.  Bear  with  me,  lieutenant, — 
not  now." 

Was  Drummond  dreaming?  He  could  have  de- 
clared that  tears  were  starting  in  the  sergeant's  eyes  as 
he  turned  hastily  away,  unable  for  the  moment  to  con- 
tinue the  setting  and  bandaging  of  the  broken  arm. 

"Take  your  own  time,  "Wing,"  said  the  young 
officer,  gently.  "Speak  or  keep  silent  as  you  will. 
You  have  earned  the  right."  And  the  sergeant 
mutely  thanked  him. 

The  primitive  surgery  of  the  frontier  took  little 
time,  and,  with  his  arm  comfortably  and  closely  slung, 
Drummond  lay  impatient  for  the  coming  of  his  men, 
impatient  perhaps  to  hear  a  softer  voice,  to  feel  again 
the  light  touch  of  slender  fingers,  yet  in  his  weakness 
and  exhaustion  dropping  slowly  off  to  sleep.  All 
efforts  to  keep  awake  proved  vain.  His  heavy  eyelids 
closed,  and  presently  he  was  in  dreamland. 

Meantime  Sergeant  Wing  had  busied  himself  in 
many  a  way.  First  he  had  gone  to  loosen  old  Mo- 
reno's bonds, — enough,  at  least,  to  relieve  his  pain  yet 

H  16 


170  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

hold  him  securely.  The  soldier  sitting  drowsily  on 
the  rock  beside  the  prisoner  gladly  accepted  permission 
to  put  aside  his  carbine  and  go  to  sleep. 

"I'll  watch  him,  Mat,"  said  Wing.  "You  lie 
down  there,  Moreno,  and  see  to  it  that  you  make  no 
effort  to  slip  a  knot  while  I'm  at  work  here.  How 
far  away  is  that  ambulance  now,  Patterson  ?"  he  called 
to  the  man  on  lookout. 

"  Halted  down  at  the  edge  of  the  plain,  sergeant. 
That's  where  they  struck  water  first,  and  I  reckon  they 
couldn't  make  up  their  minds  to  come  farther.  I  can 
make  out  one  or  two  of  the  fellows  coming  back  far 
down  the  desert  to  the  south.  Horses  played  out 
probably." 

"  Anything  to  be  seen  across  the  valley  along  the 
trail  we  came  ?" 

"Nothing,  sir;  not  a  puff  of  dust.  But  here's 
something  I  don't  understand — off  here  in  the  range 
south  of  us — well  up  towards  the  top." 

"What's  that?"  asked  Wing,  dropping  the  coil  of 
lariat  he  held  in  his  hand  and  looking  quickly  up.        t 

"Well,  it's  more  like  signal-smoke  than  anything 
else.     Just  exactly  such  smoke  as  we  have  seen  in  the 

Chiricahua  and  Catarinas  and Well,  just  come 

up  here  with  your  field-glass,  if  you  can,  sergeant.  I 
believe  there's  an  answer  to  it  way  down  to  the  south- 
east,— t'other  side  of  the  valley." 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  171 

In  an  instant  Wing  turned.  "  Sony  for  yon,  Sefior 
Moreno,"  he  grimly  muttered.  "  But  as  only  two  men 
are  with  me  and  both  are  otherwise  engaged,  I'll  have 
to  secure  you  temporarily.  It  isn't  pleasant,  but  it 
serves  you  right." 

In  vain  the  Mexican  pleaded  and  protested.  A  raw- 
hide riata  was  wound  and  looped  about  him  in  a  few 
scientific  turns  and  he  was  left  reclining  against  the 
rock,  conquered  yet  inwardly  raging,  while  Wing  stole 
in  to  Drummond's  rude  couch,  slipped  the  field-glass 
from  its  case,  then,  with  a  longing  look  into  the  darker 
depths  beyond,  and  a  moment's  hesitation,  he  stepped 
to  the  projecting  rock  that  seemed  to  divide  the  cave 
into  two  apartments  and  called  in  lower  tone,  "  Miss 
Harvey." 

"  Here,  Mr.  Wing.     What  is  wanted  ?" 

And  at  the  instant,  prompt,  alert,  even  smiling, 
Fanny  Harvey  appeared  before  him.  The  pallor  was 
gone.  The  dishevelled  hair  had  been  twisted  into 
shape.  Food,  rest,  relief  from  dread  and  misery,  and 
that  little  appreciated  beautifier,  fresh  water,  had 
wrought  their  transformation  here.  Wing's  handsome 
eyes  glistened  as  he  removed  his  hat. 

"  I  have  to  go  up  to  that  point  yonder  a  few  minutes, 
leaving  old  Moreno  alone,  bound,  to  be  sure,  but  his 
wife  or  daughter  might  slip  out  and  release  him.  Will 
you  have  the  goodness — to  take  this — and  shoot  him  if 


172  WES  IN  AMBUSH. 

they  should  make  the  attempt  ?"  And  he  handed  her 
his  pistol. 

"I'll  see  to  it  that  no  one  interferes  with  him, 
Mr.  "Wing.  What  has  happened?  Are  the  others 
coming?"  And  she  took  the  revolver,  balancing  it  in 
her  accustomed  and  practised  hand.  The  admiration 
deepened  in  Wing's  gaze. 

"  I  see  you  handle  a  pistol  as  though  you  had  used 
one.  You're  a  true  frontiersman's  daughter.  I'll 
have  to  be  away  for  a  few  minutes.  I'm  going  up  to 
look  from  our  rock  above  there.  Some  of  our  men, 
they  say,  are  in  sight  slowly  returning,  and  the  pay- 
master's ambulance  is  only  a  mile  away,  probably  wait- 
ing for  the  rest  of  the  party.     How  is  Miss  Kuth  ?" 

"  Sleeping  like  a  baby,  bless  her  heart." 

"  Well,  I  nave  promised  Mr.  Drummond  that  she 
should  be  his  nurse.  I  hope  you  will  consent.  He  is 
sleeping,  too.     No  fever  yet,  I  am  thankful  to  say." 

"  Kuth  will  be  ready,  and  so  will  I,  to  help  in  any  way 
we  can.    But  when  are  you  to  have  a  rest,  may  I  ask  ?" 

"  O-oh — by  and  by.  Lee  and  the  others  must  have 
theirs  first.  They  have  been  in  saddle  much  longer 
and  farther  than  I.  When  is  Miss  Harvey  to  have 
her  rest,  may  I  ask  ?" 

"  We-1-1,  I  don't  know.  I'll  say,  '  perhaps  by  and 
by'  too.     Look  !  that  man  is  calling  you." 

Whirling  about,  Wing  saw  his  sentinel  beckoning, 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  173 

and  in  a  moment  he  went  clambering  up  the  rocky 
trail,  active  as  a  mountain  Apache. 

"  What  is  it,  Patterson  ?" 

"It  is  signal-smoke,  sir,  across  the  valley.  That 
ain't  more  than  eight  miles  away,  and  down  here  in 
the  range  ain't  more  than  six.  What  Indians  could 
be  out  here,  I  would  like  to  know  ?  Do  they  grow 
everywhere  in  this  infernal  country  ?" 

Wing  took  his  glasses  and  long  and  earnestly  studied 
the  bluish-white  clouds  rising  in  puffs,  faint  and  barely 
distinguishable  in  the  opposite  heights,  then  fixed  his 
gaze  upon  the  filmy  column  soaring  up  among  the 
dark  pines  at  the  heart  of  the  range  to  the  southward. 
His  face  grew  graver  every  minute. 

"  Stay  here  and  watch,"  he  said.  "  I  must  go  and 
get  those  other  men  in  with  the  ambulance.  Of  course 
if  it  is  Apaches,  they've  sighted  that  party  and  the  few 
men  straggling  back,  and  those  signals  mean, ( close  on 
them.'  I'll  send  the  team  right  in  and  then  ride  and 
hurry  the  other  fellows  out." 

The  sun  was  retiring  behind  the  Cababi  Range  as 
Wing  went  leaping  down  the  trail. 

"  Sorry  for  you,  Dick,  old  boy,"  he  said  to  his  horse, 
who  was  drowsing  in  the  shade.  "  More  work  for  us 
both  now." 

Never  stopping  to  saddle,  he  leaped  upon  the  bare, 
brown  back  and  went  clattering  down  the  caflon. 

15* 


174  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

"  Keep  your  eye  on  Moreno,  there  !"  he  shouted  up 
to  the  lookout.     "  If  he  tries  to  slip  away,  shoot  him." 

Ten  minutes'  brisk  gallop  through  the  windings  of 
the  gorge  brought  him  to  the  edge  of  the  sandy  plain. 
There,  under  a  little  clump  of  willows,  was  the  ambu- 
lance, its  mules  unhitched  and  hoppled  securely,  nib- 
bling placidly  at  such  scant  herbage  as  they  could  find. 
The  horses  of  the  two  guards,  unsaddled,  were  droop- 
ing in  the  shade,  too  tired  to  hunt  for  anything  to  eat. 

u  Saddle  up,  men.  Hitch  in  and  get  that  team  to 
the  head  of  the  cafion,  lively  now,"  was  his  brief  order 
to  the  sleepy  trooper  who  greeted  him,  carbine  in 
hand. 

"What's  up,  sergeant?"  queried  another,  springing 
out  from  the  willows.  "  Lee  told  us  to  wait  here,  or 
wherever  we  could  find  shade  and  water." 

"  Wait  ?     How  long  and  what  for  ?" 

u  Blessed  if  I  know  how  long.  None  of  'em  ain't 
in  sight  from  here  coming  back ;  but  '  what  for'  is 
easy  to  answer.     The  paymaster's  chest." 

"  The  paymaster's  chest  ?"  cried  Wing.  u  Why, 
isn't  that  here  in  the  ambulance  ?" 

"Not  a  hinge  of  it.  Those  Greasers  swapped  it 
onto  an  apparejo  while  we  were  all  running  for  Har-. 
vey's  daughters.  The  money's  half-way  to  Sonora  by 
this  time." 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  175 


IX. 

Peaceful  as  was  his  rest,  Drummond  slept  only 
an  hour  or  so.  For  months  he  had  lived  in  the  open 
air,  "  on  the  war-path"  said  his  captain,  a  veteran  who 
had  won  his  spurs  twice  over  in  the  war  of  the  re- 
bellion, and  declared  himself  quite  ready  to  take  his 
ease  now  and  let  the  youngsters  see  for  themselves  the 
hollowness  of  military  glory.  Weariness  and  physical 
exhaustion  had  lent  their  claims,  and  despite  bruises 
and  many  a  pang,  despite  the  realization  of  the  pres- 
ence of  the  fair  girls  whom  his  dash  and  energy  had 
rescued  from  robber  hands,  the  young  fellow  had  dozed 
away  into  dreamland.  Why  not?  The  object  of  his 
mission  was  accomplished.  Fanny  and  Ruth  Harvey 
were  safe.  All  that  was  left  for  the  party  to  do  now 
was  rest  in  quiet  until  another  morn,  then  it  would  be 
quite  possible  to  start  on  the  return  without  waiting 
for  the  coming  of  their  friends.  Before  sunset  his 
men  would  be  reassembled ;  they  could  have  a  long 
night's  sleep,  and  with  the  rising  of  the  morrow's  sun, 
convoying  their  three  wagons  and  their  recaptured 
treasures,  the  little  detachment  would  take  the  back 


176  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

track  for  the  Tucson  road,  confident  of  meeting  "  old 
Harvey"  and,  probably,  a  doctor  on  the  way.  He  him- 
self, though  most  in  need  of  surgical  attention  when 
they  reached  the  caves,  had  such  confidence  in  the  skill 
of  Sergeant  Wing  as  to  feel  that  his  arm  was  set  as 
perfectly  as  could  be  done  by  almost  any  other  prac- 
titioner, and  before  dropping  off  to  sleep  had  quite 
determined  that  he  would  make  the  morning  march 
in  saddle. 

Still,  he  could  not  sleep  for  any  great  length  of 
time.  The  instinct  of  vigilance  and  the  sense  of  re- 
sponsibility would  not  leave  him.  In  his  half-dream- 
ing, half-waking  state,  he  once  thought  he  heard  a 
light  foot-fall,  and  presently  as  he  dozed  with  eyelids 
shut  there  came  a  soft  touch  upon  his  temple.  Lifting 
his  hand  he  seized  that  of  his  visitor, — Fanny  Harvey. 

"  Why  are  you  not  resting?"  he  asked,  "and  where 
is  Ruth  ?" 

"Ruth  is  sleeping,  as  we  hoped  you  might  be. 
'Tired  Nature's  sweet  restorer'  is  all  you  need,  Mr. 
Drummond,  yet  you  do  not  seem  to  have  had  more 
than  a  cat  nap.  Twice  I  have  stolen  in  here  to  see 
you,  and  then,  though  I  was  fearful  of  waking  you, 
you  slept  peacefully  through  it  all." 

"  Well,  I  must  have  slept  a  couple  of  hours  anyway, 
and  I  slept  soundly  until  within  the  last  few  minutes. 
Have  none  of  the  men  got  back  yet,  Miss  Harvey  ? 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  177 

Do  you  know  what  time  it  is?  I  suppose  Wing  is 
sleeping." 

"  Mr.  Wing  ought  to  be  sleeping,  but  he  isn't.  The 
sentry — Patterson  I  think  they  call  him — summoned 
him  up  to  the  lookout  there  in  the  rocks,  oh,  about  an 
hour  ago,  and  when  the  sergeant  came  back  he  mounted 
his  horse  and  rode  away  down  the  caflon.  He  said 
there  was  something  requiring  his  attention.  But  you 
are  to  drink  this  chocolate  and  lie  still." 

Drummond  slowly  strove  to  rise.  He  was  too  anx- 
ious, too  nervous,  to  remain  where  he  was. 

"  And  none  of  them  have  returned  yet  ?"  he  asked. 
"  I  cannot  understand  that.  No,  please  do  not  strive 
to  detain  me  here.  I'm  perfectly  able  to  be  up  and 
about,  and  if  Wing  is  gone  it's  my  business  to  look 
after  things." 

Over  among  the  rocks  across  the  narrow  caflon  the 
first  object  to  meet  his  gaze  as  he  arose  was  Moreno, 
reclining  there  bound  and  helpless,  while  near  at  hand 
a  soldier  had  thrown  himself  on  his  saddle  blanket 
and  was  sound  asleep.  The  plash  of  the  waters  in  the 
brook,  dancing  and  tumbling  down  the  chasm,  made 
sweet,  drowsing  music  for  his  ears,  a  lulling,  soothing 
sound  that  explained  perhaps  the  deep  slumber  of  his 
trooper  friend. 

"  I  heard  Mr.  Wing  tell  that  man  to  lie  down  and 
sleep,"  said  Miss  Harvey,  as  the  young  officer's  eyes 


178  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

seemed  to  darken  with  menace  at  the  sight  of  a  sentry 
sleeping  on  guard.  "  Moreno  is  securely  tied,  and  both 
Patterson  up  there  and  I  here  are  now  his  keepers. 
The  scfiora  and  her  daughter  are  in  the  other  cave, 
forbidden  to  go  near  him." 

Glancing  up  at  the  stunted  cedar  where  Patterson 
stood  faithful  to  his  trust,  Drummoud  saw  that  he  wafl 
peering  steadily  southward  through  the  black  field- 
glasses. 

"  What  do  you  see,  Patterson  ?"  he  hailed.  "  Where 
is  Wing?     Any  of  the  men  coming  back  ?" 

"  Wing  has  gone  on  down  the  valley,  sir.  Some  of 
our  fellows,  two  or  three  only,  were  coming  back,  but 
they  didn't  come  fast  enough  to  suit  him.  The  ambu- 
lance will  be  here  in  a  minute  or  two, — it's  just  below 
us  down  the  cafion  now." 

Indeed,  almost  at  the  moment  the  click  of  iron-shod 
hoofs  was  heard,  and  the  dejected  mule-team  came  into 
view  around  a  jutting  point,  the  dingy  yellow  ambu- 
lance jolting  after  them,  one  soldier  in  the  driver's 
seat  handling  the  reins,  the  other  riding  behind  and 
leading  his  comrade's  horse. 

"  Come  up  here  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  Merrill," 
called  the  lieutenant.  "You  can  unhitch  and  un- 
harness just  beyond ;  but  I  want  that  safe  unloaded 
and  put  in  here." 

"  The  safe's  gone,  sir." 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  179 

"What?" 

"The  safe's  gone,  sir.  "VVe  never  got  it.  That's 
what  took  Sergeant  Wing  off  down  the  valley,  I  reckon. 
I  supposed  you  knew  it,  sir,  and  him,  too,  but  he 
didn't.  Those  Morales  fellows  got  away  with  it  on 
burro-back  while  we  were  chasing  the  white  wagon." 

For  a  moment  Drumtnond  stood  astounded. 

"Man  alive!''  he  at  last  exclaimed,  "why  was  I 
not  told  of  this?  Get  me  a  horse  at  once,  Walsh,"  he 
ordered.  "I'll  take  Patterson's.  You  two  remain 
here  and  see  that  that  old  scoundrel  don't  get  loose, — 
Moreno  there, — and  that  no  harm  befall  the  ladies. 
I'll  ride  down  after  Wing." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Drummond,  you  must  not  think  of  going," 
exclaimed  Miss  Harvey.  "  You're  far  too  seriously 
hurt,  far  too  weak,  to  attempt  such  a  thing.  Please  lie 
down  again.  Surely  Mr.  Wing  will  do  all  that  any 
man  could  do  to  recover  the  safe.  All  the  others  are 
in  pursuit.  They  must  have  overtaken  them  by  this 
time.  Come ;  I  am  doctor  now  that  he  is  away.  Obey 
me  and  lie  still." 

Drummoud's  one  available  hand  found  itself  clasped 
by  warm,  slender  fingers.  He  would  have  drawn  it 
away  and  striven  to  carry  out  his  design,  but  a  glance 
at  his  two  troopers  told  him  that  they  plainly  and 
earnestly  advocated  Miss  Harvey's  view  of  the  case. 
He  was  in  no  condition  to  make  the  attempt.     And  at 


180  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

the  moment,  too,  even  as  he  strove  to  release  bis  hand, 
another  voice  was  heard,  almost  imploring. 

"  Oh,  don't  let  him  go,  Fan ;  don't  let  him  try  to 
ride !" 

And  turning  suddenly  at  the  sound,  Mr.  Drum- 
mond  found  Ruth  Harvey  standing  close  behind  her 
sister,  her  eyes  suffused,  her  cheeks  blushing  red.  It 
was  the  first  time  he  had  seen  her  to  speak  to  since 
they  landed  at  the  old  wharf  at  San  Francisco  a  year 
gone  by,  and  for  the  moment  he  forgot  the  safe,  the 
funds,  the  crippled  arm,  the  bandaged  head,  and  every 
other  item  that  should  have  occupied  his  thoughts. 

"Why,  Ruthie,  is  this  you?  How  you  have 
grown  !" 

And  then  the  imprisoned  hand  was  released  only  to 
be  transferred  to  the  clasp  and  keeping  of  another. 
In  her  fear  that  her  knight,  her  soldier,  would  leave 
them,  and,  wounded  though  he  was,  insist  on  attempt- 
ing to  follow  his  men  in  their  pursuit,  the  shyness 
of  maidenhood  was  forgotten.  Ruth  had  seized  and 
clasped  the  long,  brown  fingers,  and  Drumraond  forgot 
for  the  moment  all  thought  of  quitting  her  presence 
for  the  field. 

And  then  having — as  she  supposed — won  her  point, 
and  having  caught  the  new  light  in  his  admiring  eyes, 
it  became  necessary  to  struggle  for  the  release  of  the 
hand  she  had  so  unhesitatingly  used  to  detain  him. 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  181 

This  might  have  proved  a  difficult  matter,  judging 
from  the  expression  in  Drummond's  face,  but  for  a 
sudden  hail  from  Patterson. 

"Can  the  lieutenant  come  up  here  a  moment? 
There's  something  going  on  down  there  I  can't  under- 
stand." 

Old  Moreno,  whose  bonds  could  not  restrain  his 
shifting,  glittering  eyes,  glanced  quickly  upward. 
Then,  as  he  caught  a  menacing  look  in  the  sunburned 
face  of  the  Irish  trooper  Walsh,  he  became  as  suddenly 
oblivious  to  all  earthly  matters  beyond  the  pale  of  his 
own  physical  woes.  And  now  it  was  Ruth's  hand 
that  would  retain  its  clasp  and  Drummond's  that  was 
again  struggling  for  release.  In  a  moment  the  lieuten- 
ant stood  under  Patterson's  perch. 

"What  did  you  see?  What  was  it  like?  How 
far  away  ?" 

"  Six  or  seven  miles,  sir.  The  valley  is  broad  and 
open,  and  three  of  our  fellows  were  riding  slowly  back 
on  the  west  side,  while  Wing  was  galloping  as  though 
to  meet  them,  and  when  they  weren't  more  than  a  mile 
apart  Wing's  horse  went  down, — looks  no  bigger  than 
a  black  speck, — and  the  other  three  sheered  oif  away 
from  the  rocks  on  this  side  and  seemed  to  be  scattering 
apart." 

The  words  were  low  spoken  so  as  to  reach  only  his 
ear.    Now  it  was  no  easy  scramble  for  a  man  in  Drum- 

16 


182  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

mond's  condition  to  make,  but  it  took  him  only  a  little 
time  to  clamber  to  Patterson's  side. 

"  There's  something  back  of  all  this,  and  you  know 
it,  Patterson.     What  Apache  sign  have  you  seen  ?" 

"Smoke,  sir,  on  both  sides.  But  we  agreed,  the 
sergeant  and  I,  that  the  young  ladies-  mustn't  be 
alarmed  nor  you  aroused.  Then  he  rode  away  to 
hurry  in  any  of  our  fellows  who  were  in  sight  and 
warn  them  to  keep  out  from  the  rocks.  What  I'm 
afraid  of  is  that  they've  been  ambushed,  or  at  least 
that  the  Indians  have  ambushed  him.  His  horse  is 
down,  and  those  others  you  see  are  away  out  on  the 
plain  now.  They're  working  around  towards  the 
horse  as  though  he  were  lying  behind  it,  and  they 
appear  to  be  firing  mounted." 

What  was  Drummond  to  do  ?  To  leave  his  charges 
here,  unprotected,  was  out  of  the  question.  Fail  to 
go,  or  send,  to  Wing's  relief  he  could  not.  Decide  he 
must  and  decide  quickly. 

"  Patterson,  that  party  of  Apaches  can't  be  over  a 
dozen  strong  or  they  would  have  rushed  out  of  their 
cover  by  this  time,  yet  they  are  too  strong  and  too 
securely  posted  to  be  driven  by  that  little  squad,  es- 
pecially if  Wing  is  wounded.  I  can't  shoot  now,  but 
I  can  ride  and  direct.  Every  man  who  can  shoot  may 
be  needed  here.  You  have  four  now  and  can  stand 
off   forty  Apaches — Tonto  or  Chiricahua — in  such  a 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  183 

position  as  this,  so  I  leave  you  in  charge.  You  have 
everything  to  help  you  stand  a  siege.  Now  see  to  it 
that  the  ladies  are  kept  well  under  cover,  and  I'll 
hurry  back  with  Walsh  and  what  men  I  can  find." 

Then  down  he  scrambled,  giving  one  look  at  Mo- 
reno and  his  sleeping  guardian  as  he  passed,  then  gave 
a  low-toned  order  to  Walsh. 

"  Saddle  your  horse  again  and  ride  just  to  the  other 
side  of  that  rock  yonder  and  wait  for  me." 

Well  he  understood  that  it  would  be  impossible  for 
him  to  ride  away  without  Fanny  Harvey's  knowing 
that  something  of  a  serious  nature  was  impending, 
and  that  he  could  not  get  away  at  all  without  their 
knowing  it.  What  he  desired  was  to  conceal  from 
them  that  there  was  any  danger  from  Apaches. 

Just  as  he  expected,  both  girls  were  eagerly  await- 
ing him  at  the  entrance  to  the  cave.  His  revolvers 
were  in  there  beside  the  rude  couch  on  which  he  had 
slept  so  peacefully. 

"  Now  are  you  ready  to  return  to  hospital  and  proper 
subjection?"  asked  Miss  Harvey,  laughingly.  "It 
is  high  time.  What  could  have  tempted  you  to  climb 
to  that  high  point  ?" 

u  Why,  it's  the  first  chance  I've  had  of  a  look 
around,"  was  the  answer.  "  This  is  an  awfully  strong 
spot  for  a  place  of  refuge.  You  are  safe  here,  safer 
than  anywhere  between  Yuma  and  Tucson,  now  that 


184  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

the  former  possessors  are  scattered.  But  did  you  hear 
what  took  Wing  off?" 

"  No,  he  didn't  stop  to  explain  matters.  He  simply 
dashed  away  without  even  a  saddle.  '  Something  1 
must  look  after,'  was  all  he  vouchsafed  to  say." 

"  Well,  the  men  just  in  tell  me  the  paymaster's  safe 
was  spirited  off.  Confound  that  little  green  box  of 
greenbacks !  Some  shrewd  packer  among  Morales's 
people  whisked  it  out  of  the  wagon  and  onto  a  burro, 
and  now  we  are  all  keen  to  get  it  back.  Of  course  I 
can't  sleep  again  until  we  know.  Some  of  our  people 
are  coming  slowly  up  the  valley  and  Wing  went  on 
down  to  meet  them." 

But  all  the  time  he  talked  so  airily  with  the  elder 
sister,  Ruth  stood  watching  him  with  suspicious  eyes. 

"Mr.  Drummond,  please  do  not  go,"  she  broke 
forth.  "  You  have  no  right  to — now."  And  James, 
the  dissembler,  found  himself  trapped. 

"  Go  I  must,  Ruthie,"  he  said,  with  sudden  change 
of  manner.  "  I  know  you  will  not  blame  me  or  de- 
tain when  I  tell  you,  as  I  feel  forced  to  tell  you  now, 
that  Sergeant  Wing  is  hurt.  His  horse  has  fallen 
with  him  far  out  on  the  desert.  I'll  be  back  and  very 
soon." 

Then  with  sudden  impulsive  movement  he  bent, 
kissed  her  forehead,  and  turned  as  suddenly  away. 

When  the  sisters  looked  into  each  other's  eyes  a 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  185 

moment  later  one  face  was  blushing  like  the  dawn,  the 
other  was  pallid  with  a  new  and  deep  anxiety. 

And  now  we,  too,  must  follow  Wing.  He  was  a 
total  stranger,  it  is  to  be  remembered,  to  the  regiment 
when,  after  its  years  of  battling  in  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac,  it  was  sent  into  exile  on  the  far  Pacific  coast 
and  speedily  lost  to  sight  in  the  deserts  of  Arizona. 
The  type  of  non-commissioned  officer  most  familiar  to 
the  rank  and  file  as  well  as  to  their  superiors  was  the 
old-fashioned  "  plains  raised,"  "  discipplin  furst  and 
rayson  aftherwards"  class  of  which  Feeny  was  so  promi- 
nent an  exponent.  Brave  to  rashness  and  faithful  to 
the  very  death,  they  had  reason  to  look  for  respect 
and  appreciation.  They  were  men  whose  only  educa- 
tion was  that  picked  up  in  the  camps  and  campaigns 
of  the  famous  old  regiments  to  which,  when  mere 
recruits,  they  had  been  assigned.  They  were  invalua- 
ble in  the  army,  and  would  have  been  utterly  mis- 
judged and  out  of  their  element  anywhere  else.  That 
"  book  learning"  and  soldiering  could  ever  go  hand  in 
hand  no  man  in  the  old  dragoons  would  ever  have 
believed  for  an  instant.  Such  scholars  as  had  drifted 
into  the  ranks  were,  as  a  rule,  irreclaimable  drunkards, 
lost  to  any  chance  of  redemption  at  home,  and  only 
tolerated  in  the  service  in  the  rough  old  days  because 
of  their  meek  and  uncomplaining  performance  of  long 
hours  of  extra  duty  in  the  troop  or  regimental  offices 

16* 


180  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

when,  their  whiskey  and  their  money  alike  exhausted, 
they  humbly  went  baek  to  their  desks,  asking  only  to 
live  in  the  hope  of  another  drunk.  Hundreds  of  the 
old  dragoons  could  barely  sign  their  names,  many 
could  only  touch  the  pen  when  called  upon  to  make 
"his  (X)  mark."  "Another  busted  clerk"  was  the 
general  expression  when  the  young  Californian  came  for- 
ward to  enlist.  Yet  he  was  the  picture  of  clear-eyed, 
athletic  manhood,  was  accepted  with  much  hesitancy 
by  the  officers  and  undoubted  suspicion  by  the  men, 
yet  speedily  proved  a  splendid  horseman,  scout,  shot, 
and,  as  was  the  final  admission,  "all-round  trooper," 
despite  the  fact  that  he  was  well  educated  and  spoke 
Spanish  like  a  native.  Still,  such  was  the  prevailing 
faith,  as  it  ever  is  among  veteran  soldiers,  that  the  old 
style  was  the  best,  it  was  long  before  he  won  promo- 
tion. No  one  who  has  not  known  both  can  begin  to 
imagine  the  difference  between  the  army  of  a  quarter- 
century  ago  and  the  army  of  to-day.  Just  as  Feeny 
was  a  resolute  specimen  of  the  old,  so  was  Wing  a 
pioneer  of  his  class  in  the  new.  At  the  moment  when 
the  latter  struck  spurs  to  the  wearied  flanks  of  poor 
Dick  and  called  on  him  for  one  more  effort,  the  stalwart 
and  handsome  sergeant  sped  away  on  the  path  of  duty, 
confident  of  the  fact  that  by  this  time  every  man  in 
his  own  troop  and  every  soldier  who  knew  him  at  all 
would  stake  his  last  dollar  on  "  Bob"  Wing's  tackling 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  187 

the  problem  before  him  as  fearlessly  and  intelligently 
as  any  veteran  in  the  regiment. 

Having  ordered  the  ambulance  up  the  gorge,  he 
himself  spurred  away  to  gather  in  all  stragglers  within 
reach,  so  as  to  reinforce  the  little  garrison  at  the  caves 
in  the  event  of  attack  from  the  Apaches.  To  his 
practised  eye  no  vestige  of  doubt  remained  as  to  the 
character  and  purpose  of  the  signal-smokes.  Not  a 
moment  was  to  be  lost.  Within  that  very  hour,  per- 
haps, unseen  Indians  would  come  skulking,  spying, 
"  snaking"  upon  their  refuge,  would  be  able,  infalli- 
bly, to  determine  the  number  and  character  of  its 
occupants,  and,  if  their  own  force  were  considerable 
and  that  of  the  garrison  weak,  God  alone  could  help 
those  innocent  women. 

When  last,  noted  the  westward  signal  was  puffing 
slowly  up  into  the  cloudless  sky  from  a  point  in  the 
range  perhaps  six  miles  below  Patterson's  station  in 
the  rocks.  The  three  wearied  troopers  dragging  slowly 
back  from  the  chase  could  be  seen  coming  up  the 
valley  probably  four  miles  away,  some  distance,  there- 
fore, ahead  of  the  supposed  position  of  the  foe.  Wing 
well  knew  with  what  goat-like  agility  the  mountain 
Indians  could  speed  along  from  rock  to  rock  and  still 
keep  under  cover,  and  every  man  who  had  served  a 
month  in  Arizona  could  have  predicted  that  if  Indians 
in  any  force  were  within  a  day's  march  of  those  three 


188  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

stragglers  ambush  and  death  would  be  their  fate,  per- 
haps even  when  within  view  of  their  longed-for  goal. 
That  they  had  not  seen  the  sign,  that  they  were  igno- 
rant of  the  possible  presence  of  Apaches  in  the  range, 
was  manifest  simply  because  they  rode  close  along 
under  the  foot-hills,  often  over  the  bowlder-strown 
outskirt  of  the  falda,  and,  though  still  far  from  them, 
such  was  Wing's  anxiety  for  their  safety  that  he  rode 
furiously  along,  signalling  with  his  left  hand  as  though 
to  say  "  Keep  out !  Keep  to  your  right !  Don't  go 
so  close  to  the  rocks  !" 

In  this  way,  urging  Dick  to  his  speed  and  never 
thinking  of  his  own  safety,  intent  only  on  saving  his 
comrades  from  possible  death,  believing,  too,  that  no 
Apache  could  yet  have  worked  his  way  so  far  up  the 
range,  Wing  was  riding,  straight  as  the  crow  flies, 
from  the  little  oasis  at  the  mouth  of  the  caflon  towards 
the  ambling  laggards  to  the  south.  His  course  led 
him  along  within  a  hundred  yards  of  many  a  bowlder 
or  "  suwarrow"  though  his  path  itself  was  unobstructed. 
The  sun  had  gone  westering  and  he  was  in  the  shadow. 
Presently,  however,  as  Dick  panted  painfully,  heavily, 
up  a  very  gentle  slope  and  the  sergeant  came  upon  the 
low  crest  of  a  mound-like  upheaval,  he  saw  some  four 
hundred  yards  ahead  a  broad  bay  of  sunlight  stretch- 
ing in  from  the  glaring  sea  to  the  east,  and,  glancing 
to  his  right,  noted  that  there  was  a  depression  in  the 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  189 

range, — something  like  a  broad  cleft  in  the  mountains, 
possibly  a  pass  through  to  the  broader  desert  on 
the  other  side.  He  gave  it  little  thought,  however. 
There,  only  a  mile  or  so  away  now,  came  his  fellow- 
troopers,  two  in  front,  another  lagging  some  distance 
behind,  riding  sleepily  towards  him  and  dangerously 
close  to  a  number  of  sheltering  rocks.  Intent  only  on 
them  and  still  wishing  to  attract  their  attention,  he 
swung  his  broad-brimmed  hat,  waving  it  off  to  the 
left,  but  with  no  apparent  result.  Confound  them ! 
Were  they  sound  asleep  ?  Could  they  never  be  made 
to  see  ?  Poor  Dick  was  able  now  only  to  strike  a 
feeble  canter,  so  utterly  was  he  used  up,  and  just  when 
Wing,  looking  only  to  the  front,  was  thinking  that  he 
might  as  well  discontinue  the  spur  and  let  his  poor 
horse  rest,  they  labored  forth  from  the  sheltering  shade 
full  upon  the  tawny,  sunlit  sand.  Then,  while  the 
sergeant's  eyes  were  temporarily  blinded  by  the  glare, 
there  came  from  the  rocks  to  his  right  a  sudden  flash 
and  report.  He  felt  at  the  same  instant  a  stinging 
pang  in  the  leg.  He  had  just  time  to  grasp  his  own 
carbine  and  to  attempt  to  swing  off  when  the  second 
shot  echoed  loudly  from  the  rocks.  He  felt  poor  Dick 
start  and  swerve ;  he  felt  him  going  headlong,  and  the 
next  thing  he  knew  he  was  vainly  striving  to  peer 
into  the  face  of  the  evening  sun  from  over  the  quiver- 
ing body  of  his  faithful  friend,  unable  for  the  moment 


190  FOES  JN  AMBUSH. 

to  see  the  faintest  sign  of  an  enemy,  and  then  the 
blood  came  welling  through  the  little  hole  in  his  worn 
cavalry  trousers,  midway  between  the  hip-bone  and  the 
knee,  and  he  knew  he  had  received  a  serious,  perhaps 
a  desperate  wound. 

For  the  moment,  therefore,  he  could  do  nothing 
more  but  look  for  succor.  A  glance  down  the  desert 
told  him  his  fellows  were  at  last  rudely  awakened. 
True  to  the  practice  of  the  craft,  the  instant  fire  was 
opened  from  the  rocks  each  man  had  put  spurs  to  his 
horse  and  dashed  away  to  a  safer  distance  with  such 
speed  as  was  possible  with  their  jaded  mounts,  each 
trooper  warily  scanning  the  dark  line  of  the  foot-hills 
in  search  of  the  foe  and  striving  as  he  rode  to  unfasten 
the  flap  that  held  his  carbine,  in  the  fashion  of  the 
day,  athwart  the  pommel  of  his  saddle ;  and  now, 
circling  farther  out  upon  the  plain,  in  wide  sweep, 
with  carbines  advanced,  they  were  hastening  to  the 
succor  of  their  comrade.  Presently  one  of  their  num- 
ber suddenly  drew  rein,  halted  his  startled  "  broncho," 
aimed  to  the  left  of  the  horse's  head  and  fired,  then, 
cramming  a  cartridge  into  the  chamber,  came  riding 
farther.  The  others,  too,  followed  suit,  shooting  at 
some  object  apparently  amoug  the  rocks  in  front  of 
the  sergeant's  position.  One  of  the  men  threw  himself 
from  his  saddle,  and  kneeling  on  the  sands  drove  two 
or  three  shots  at  long  range.     Eager  to  add  his  own 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  19* 

fire  to  theirs,  Wing  pulled  his  hat-brim  over  his  eyes, 
threw  forward  the  barrel  over  the  now  stilled  carcass 
of  poor  Dick,  and  peered  eagerly  up  the  ravine  in 
search  of  some  foe  at  whom  to  aim.  Blindly  he 
searched  for  dusky  Apache  skulking  from  rock  to 
rock  ;  there  was  no  moving  thing  in  sight.  But  what 
was  this, — this  object  that  suddenly  shot  out  from  be- 
hind a  little  ledge  and,  turning  sharply  to  the  left, 
went  clattering  into  the  depths  of  a  dark  and  frown- 
ing gorge?  Gould  he  believe  his  eyes?  Did  the 
Chiricahuas,  then,  have  horses  and  wear  trooper  hats? 
Bending  low  over  his  steed  and  spurring  him  to  the 
uttermost  exertion,  a  tall,  even  soldierly,  form  had 
darted  one  instant  into  view  and  then  gone  thundering 
out  of  sight.  Up  to  this  moment  Wing  never  had 
lost  full  control  of  his  faculties.  Now  his  brain  reeled. 
Before  his  eyes  rose  a  dense  cloud  of  mist  rushing  forth 
from  the  mountain-side  Bowlders,  near  at  hand,  took 
to  waltzing  solemnly  with  their  neighbors,  and  when 
at  last  the  foremost  trooper  flung  himself  from  his 
horse  and  crept  to  the  sergeant's  side,  while  his  com- 
rades rode  on,  keeping  vigilant  watch  against  the  ap- 
pearance of  other  foe,  Sergeant  Wing  was  found  lying 
beside  his  dead  horse  :  he  had  swooned  utterly  away. 

By  and  by,  with  anxious  face  and  bandaged  head 
and  arm,  Lieutenant  Drummond  came  galloping  down  ; 
Wing  was  then  submitting  to  the  rude  bandaging  ->f 


192  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

his  leg  and  lying  limp  and  weak,  his  head  resting  on 
Dick's  stiffening  shoulder.  But  Wing's  eyes  were 
covered  by  his  gauntleted  hand ;  he  never  looked  up 
at  his  young  commander,  though  he  heard  his  anxious 
queries. 

"  Is  he  much  hurt  ?     "Were  there  many  of  them  ?" 

''  Shot  through  the  leg  here,  sir,"  answered  the 
sturdy  corporal,  "and  was  in  a  dead  faint  when  we 
got  to  him.  I  don't  know  how  many  there  was  of 
them,  lieutenant;  they  skipped  off  the  moment  we 
opened  fire." 

"They  couldn't  have  seen  us  coming,  lieutenant," 
eagerly  spoke  a  young  recruit.  "They  must  have 
thought  the  sergeant  was  alone,  for  when  we  charged 
they  just  lit  out  for  all  they  were  worth,  didn't  they, 
Mike  ?"  he  eagerly  asked  his  comrade,  an  older  trooper. 

"  Oh,  shut  up,  Billy  !  There's  nothing  an  Apache 
doesn't  see,  but  we  were  too  far  off  to  tell  how  many 
there  was.  I  only  saw  one  as  he  lept  away.  Shure 
the  sergeant  was  nearer, — he  could  have  seen." 

"  Sergeant  Wing,  it  is  I,  Lieutenant  Drummond. 
Look  up  a  moment  if  you  can.  You  were  close  to 
them,  how  many  did  you  see  ?" 

"  How  many  Indians,  sir  ?"  asked  Wing,  faintly. 

"  Yes,  how  many  ?" 

A  pause.     Then  at  last,— 

"  I  didn't  see  one,  sir." 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  193 


X. 

Another  day  had  dawned  and  another  patient  was 
added  to  Miss  Harvey's  hospital  list  at  the  caves. 
The  original  plan  of  starting  on  the  return  soon  after 
daybreak  had  now  to  be  abandoned,  as  Drummond  ex- 
plained, because  here  was  a  man  who  could  not  stand 
the  journey.  Surely  there  would  not  be  many  hours 
before  the  relief  party  from  Stoneman,  following  their 
trail,  would  come  speeding  to  the  rescue,  bringing  to 
the  wounded  the  needed  surgical  skill  and  attention, 
bringing  to  the  Harvey  girls  their  devoted  father. 
The  only  question  in  the  young  lieutenant's  mind  as 
the  sun  rose,  a  burning,  dazzling  disk  over  the  distant 
mountains  to  the  east,  was,  which  will  be  first  to  reach 
us,  friends  or  foes  ? 

Wearied  and  shattered  though  he  was  and  replete  as 
the  night  had  been  with  anxiety  and  vigil,  Drummond 
climbed  the  goat-track  that  led  to  the  sentry's  perch 
feeling  full  of  hope  and  pluck  and  fight.  He  and  his 
men  had  divided  the  night  into  watches,  one  being 
awake  and  astir,  not  even  permitting  himself  to  sit  a 
moment,  while  the  others  slept.  The  fact  that  he  was 
in  17 


194  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

able  to  send  back  to  the  caves,  have  an  ambulance 
hitched  in  and  driven  down  to  where  Wing  lay 
wounded,  and  to  bear  him  slowly,  carefully,  back  to 
shelter,  reaching  the  caves  without  further  molestation 
before  darkness  set  in,  had  served  to  convince  the 
young  commander  that  he  could  count  on  reasonable 
security  for  the  night.  Unless  they  know  their  prey 
to  be  puny  and  well-nigh  defenceless,  Apaches  make 
no  assault  in  the  darkness,  and  so,  with  the  coming 
of  the  dawn,  he  had  about  him  fit  for  service  a 
squad  of  seven  troopers,  most  of  them  seasoned  moun- 
tain fighters.  His  main  anxiety  now  was  for  Wing, 
whose  wound  was  severe,  the  bullet  having  gone  clear 
through,  just  grazing  the  bone,  and  who,  despite  the 
fact  that  Fanny  Harvey  early  in  the  night  had  every 
now  and  then  crept  noiselessly  in  to  cool  his  fevered 
head,  seemed  strangely  affected  mentally,  seemed  un- 
naturally flighty  and  wandering,  seemed  oppressed  or 
excited  alternately  in  a  way  that  baffled  Drummond 
completely,  for  no  explanation  was  plausible.  Two  or 
three  times  during  the  night  he  had  been  heard  moan- 
ing, and  yet  the  moment  Drummond  or,  as  once  hap- 
pened, Miss  Harvey  hastened  to  his  side,  he  declared 
it  was  nothing.  "  I  must  have  been  dozing  and  im- 
agined  the  pain  was  greater  than  it  was."  Awake  and 
conscious,  so  stout  a  soldier  as  he  would  be  the  last  to 
give  way  to  childish  exhibition  of  suffering,  yet  twice 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  195 

Drummond  knew  him  to  be  awake  despite  his  prot- 
estation of  dozing,  and  he  did  not  at  all  like  it  that 
Wing  should  bury  his  face  in  his  arms,  hiding  it  from 
all.  What  could  have  occurred  to  change  this  buoy- 
ant, joyous,  high-spirited  trooper  all  on  a  sudden  into 
a  sighing,  moaning,  womanish  fellow  ?  Surely  not  a 
wound  of  which,  however  painful,  any  soldier  might 
be  proud. 

Somewhere  along  towards  four  o'clock,  when  it  was 
again  Patterson's  watch  and  Drummond  arose  from  his 
blanket  after  a  refreshing  sleep  of  nearly  two  hours 
and  he  and  his  faithful  sentry  were  standing  just  out- 
side the  mouth  of  the  cave,  they  distinctly  heard  the 
same  moan  of  distress. 

"  Is  there  nothing  we  can  do  to  ease  the  sergeant, 
sir  ?"  whispered  Patterson.  "  This  makes  the  second 
time  I  have  heard  him  groaning,  and  it's  so  unlike 
him." 

"  We  have  no  opiates,  and  I  doubt  if  he  would  use 
one  if  we  had.     He  declares  there  is  no  intense  pain." 

"Well,  first  off,  sir,  I  thought  he  was  dreaming, 
but  he  was  wide  awake,  and  Miss  Harvey  came  in 
only  a  moment  after  I  got  to  him.  Could  those  devils 
poison  a  bullet  as  they  do  their  arrows,  and  could  that 
make  him  go  into  fever  so  soon  ?" 

"  I  hardly  think  so ;  but  why  did  you  say  dream- 
ing?" 


196  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

"  Because  once  it  was  c  mother'  he  called,  and  again 
— just  now — I  thought  he  said  mother." 

The  lieutenant  turned,  looking  straight  at  his 
soldierly  subordinate. 

"  By  Jove !  Patterson,  so  did  I." 

There  was  a  little  stir  across  the  cafion.  Moreno 
was  edging  about  uneasily  and  beginning  to  mutter 
blasphemy  at  his  bonds. 

"  That  fellow  begged  very  hard  to  be  moved  down 
into  that  wolf-hole  of  a  place  where  the  Mexican 
women  are,  lieutenant,  with  those  two  bunged-up  ban- 
dits to  take  care  of.  Nice  time  we'd  have,  sir,  if  the 
three  of  them  was  able  to  move.  The  boys'd  make 
short  work  of  them  now,  the  way  they're  feeling.  I 
went  in  and  took  a  look  at  those  two  fellows.  One 
of  'em  is  a  goner,  sure,  but  they're  dead  game,  both 
of  'em.     Neither  one  has  a  word  to  say." 

"  No,"  answered  Drummond,  "  they  refused  to  give 
their  names  to  me, — said  it  was  no  earthly  consequence 
what  name  we  put  over  their  graves,  the  right  set  of 
fellows  would  be  along  after  a  while  and  do  them 
all  the  honor  they  cared  for.  How  were  the  Moreno 
Women  behaving  ?" 

"  The  girl  was  asleep,  I  should  judge,  sir.  The  old 
hag  was  rocking  to  and  fro,  crooning  to  herself  un- 
til one  of  the  two— the  live  one,  I  should  call  him — 
hurled  a  curse  at  her  in  Spanish  and  told  her  to  dry 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  197 

np  or  he'd  kill  her.  All  a  bluff,  for  he  can't  move  a 
peg." 

"  Watch  them  well,  Patterson,  all  the  same.    Hush  !" 

Again  from  within  the  deep  shelter  of  the  rocky 
cave  came  the  low  moan  of  anguish, — 

"  Mother  !  mother !  if  you  knew " 

*■  Here,  Patterson,  I  can't  stand  this.  I'm  going  in 
to  him."  And,  picking  up  the  dim  lantern  which  he 
had  taken  from  the  Harvey  wagon,  Drummond  stole 
in  on  tiptoe  and  knelt  again  beside  his  wounded 
comrade. 

"  Wing  !  sergeant !  Look  up,  man.  Speak  to  me. 
You  must  be  in  distress,  mental  or  bodily.  Do  let 
me  help  you  in  some  way." 

For  a  moment  no  reply  whatever.  Wing's  face  was 
hidden.     Then  he  looked  gently  upward. 

"  Lieutenant,  I'm  ashamed  to  be  giving  you  so  much 
trouble.  Please  go  and  lie  down  again,  sir ;  you're 
worse  hurt  than  I  am, — only  I  suppose  I  get  to  dozing 
off  and  then  turn  on  that  side." 

"No,  it  isn't  that,  sergeant.  There's  something 
wrong,  and  it  has  all  come  on  you  since  yesterday 
morning.     Where  is  your  mother  ?" 

Again  Wing  turned  away,  burying  his  face  in  his 
arms. 

"  Listen,  sergeant ;  we  hope  to  get  you  out  of  this 
by  to-night.     Dr.  Gray  ought  surely  to  reach  us  by 

17* 


198  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

that  time,  and  while  we  may  have  to  keep  up  a  field 
hospital  here  a  day  or  two,  my  first  duty  will  be  to 
write  and  tell  your  mother  how  bravely  you  have 
6erved  us,  and  she  shall  be  told  that  you  are  wounded, 
but  not  in  such  a  way  as  to  alarm  her." 

Out  came  a  restraining  hand. 

"  Lieutenant,  she  must  not  know  at  all." 

"  Well,  she  can't,  so  far  as  I'm  concerned,  as  I  don't 
know  her  address.     But  think  a  moment ;  you  know 

and  I  know Hold  on,  wait !"     And  Drummond 

rose  and  tiptoed  to  a  cleft  in  the  rock  through  which 
shone  a  dim  light ;  it  was  the  entrance  to  the  remote 
inner  cave  where  the  Harvey  girls  were  sleeping.  As- 
sured that  his  words  could  reach  there  no  listening  ears, 
Drummond  returned,  kneeling  again  by  the  sergeant's 
side.  "  Just  think,  man  ;  any  moment  after  daybreak 
the  Apaches  may  be  upon  us,  and,  who  knows  ?  it 
may  be  my  last  fight.  Of  course  I  believe  that  our 
fellows  can  stand  them  off  until  rescue  comes,  but  a 
bullet  may  find  me  any  moment,  and  then  who  is  there 
to  report  your  conduct  and  secure  the  recognition  due 
you,  or,  if  the  doctor  should  be  late  in  coming  and 
fever  set  in  and  this  wound  prove  too  much  for  your 
strength,  is  there  nothing  that  ought  to  be  said  to  her 
for  you  ?" 

Again  only  painful  silence.     At  last  Wing  spoke. 

"  I  understand.    I  appreciate  all  you  say.    But  I've 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  199 

got  to  think  it  over,  lieutenant.  Give  me  an  hour  or 
so.     Don't  ask  me  to  tell  you  now." 

"So  be  it,  man.  Now  rest  all  you  possibly  can. 
It's  almost  day.  The  crags  are  beginning  to  light  up 
back  of  us  here  already.  Yes,  and  the  sentry's  calling 
me  now.  I'll  be  back  by  and  by.  What  is  it,  Patter- 
son ?"  he  whispered,  going  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave. 

"I've  just  come  down  from  the  tree  up  there,  sir. 
You  can  see  quite  a  ways  down  the  range  now,  though 
the  light  is  dim,  and  what  I  take  to  be  a  signal-fire 
leaped  up  not  three  miles  below  us,  certainly  this  side 
of  where  Wing  was  shot." 

"So  soon?  All  right,  then  get  back  to  the  post 
just  as  quick  as  you  can.  I'll  rouse  the  man  who  has 
slept  longest.  All  must  be  astir  in  half  an  hour,  but 
you  keep  watch  there." 

And  half  an  hour  later  it  is  that,  field-glass  in  hand, 
the  young  officer  is  there  by  Patterson's  side,  peering 
eastward  almost  into  the  eye  of  the  sun,  searching  with 
anxiety  inexpressible  for  any  sign  of  dust-cloud  rising 
along  the  trail  on  which  they  came,  for  the  sight  he 
has  seen  down  the  range,  now  brilliant  in  the  morning 
light,  has  filled  his  heart  with  the  first  real  dread  it  has 
yet  known.  In  three  places,  not  more  than  four  or 
five  miles  apart,  down  along  the  sunlit  side  of  this 
wild  and  picturesque  mountain-chain,  signal-smokes 
have  been  puffing  straight  up  skyward,  the  nearest 


200  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

only  a  couple  of  miles  from  this  lone  picket  post,  but 
all  on  the  same  side  of  the  valley. 

Last  evening  the  answer  came  from  across  the  broad 
desert.  They  have  come  over,  therefore,  and  are  has- 
tening up  the  chain  to  join  the  eager  advance  here  so 
close  to  their  hiding-place.  Beyond  a  doubt  watchful 
spies  are  already  lurking  among  those  heights  to  the 
west,  striving  to  get  close  enough  to  peer  into  the  rocky 
fortress  and  estimate  the  strength  of  the  garrison. 
Great  they  well  know  it  cannot  be,  for  did  not  their 
keen  eyes  count  nearly  twenty  chasing  those  hated 
brigands  far  down  towards  Sonora  Pass,  and  of  that 
number  how  many  have  returned  ? — only  three.  Did 
they  not  see  the  flurry  and  excitement  when  that  ser- 
geant was  shot  from  ambush  ?  Now,  therefore,  is  the 
time  to  strike, — now  while  the  main  body  is  far  away. 
Whatsoever  booty  there  may  be  obtainable  in  that 
rocky  cafion  'tis  well  worth  the  attempt.  And  so 
from  north  to  south  the  puff-balls  of  blue-white  smoke 
go  sailing  upward  through  the  pines,  and  it  all  means 
speed !  speed ! 

At  seven  o'clock  the  little  command  has  had  coffee 
and  a  hearty  breakfast.  No  lack  of  provender  here  in 
this  hitherto  undiscovered  robbers'  roost.  Drummond, 
cool,  confident,  has  had  his  men  about  him  where  none 
others  could  see  or  hear,  has  assigned  them  the  stations 
which  they  are  to  take  the  instant  of  alarm,  and  has 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  201 

given  them  their  instructions.  Walsh  it  is  who  is  now 
on  lookout,  and  he  is  peering  away  down  southward 
so  intently  that  some  comrade  is  prompted  to  call  up 
to  him  in  a  low  tone, — 

"  See  anything  ?" 

To  which,  without  removing  the  glass  from  under 
his  hat-brim,  the  Irish  trooper  merely  shakes  his  head. 

"  Any  more  smokes  ?" 

"  Sorra  a  smoke  have  I  seen  at  all." 

"  Well,  then,  what  in  blazes  are  you  staring  at  ?" 

"  How  can  I  tell  ye  till  I  find  out  ?"  is  the  Hiber- 
nian reply,  and  this  is  enough  to  send  the  corporal  on 
a  climb.  Drummond  at  the  moment  is  again  kneeling 
by  Wing,  who  has  but  just  awakened  from  a  fitful 
sleep,  Miss  Harvey  being  the  first  to  hear  him  stir  and 
sigh.  Ruth  and  her  sister,  too,  seem  about  to  with- 
draw, but  Wing,  whose  voice  is  weak  now,  begs  them 
to  remain. 

"  Has  anything  been  seen  yet — back  on  the  trail — 
of  the  Stoneman  party  ?"  he  asks. 

"  No,  sergeant,"  replies  Drummond ;  "  but  remem- 
ber that  we  can  only  see  some  six  miles  of  the  trail, 
after  that  it  is  lost  in  that  tortuous  ravine  down  which 
we  rode  on  the  chase.  Walsh  is  up  there  on  lookout, 
and  I'll  ask  if  he  can  see  anything  now  f  and  calling 
to  one  of  the  men,  Drummond  bids  him  inquire.  All 
eagerly  await  the  reply. 


202  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

At  last  it  comes, — 

"  No  dust  on  the  back  track,  sir,  but  something  that 
looks  like  it  far  to  the  south.  We  think  it  may  be 
some  of  our  fellows  coming  back,  but  it  is  too  faint 
and  far  to  make  it  out  yet." 

The  corporal  is  the  speaker,  his  resonant  voice 
contrasting  strongly  with  the  feeble  accents  of  his 
immediate  superior,  the  wounded  sergeant. 

"Then  I  have  something  that  must  be  told  you, 
lieutenant,  something  Miss  Harvey  already  has  an 
inkling  of,  for  she  has  met  and  known  my  dear  mother. 
If  this  pain  continue  to  increase,  and  fever  set  in,  I 
may  be  unable  to  tell  it  later.  Some  of  the  men 
thought  I  had  enlisted  under  an  alias,  lieutenant,  but 
they  were  wrong.  Wing  is  my  rightful  name.  My 
father  was  chief  officer  of  the  old  '  Flying  Cloud*  in  the 
days  when  American  clipper  ships  beat  the  world. 
The  gold  fever  seized  him,  though,  and  he  quit  sailing 
and  went  to  mining  in  the  early  days  of  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  there  when  I  was  a  little  boy  of  ten  he  died, 
leaving  mother  with  not  many  thousand  dollars  to  take 
care  of  herself  and  me.  '  You  will  have  your  brother 
to  help  you'  were  words  he  spoke  the  last  day  of  his 
life,  and  even  then  I  noted  how  little  comfort  mother 
seemed  to  find  in  that  fact.  It  was  only  a  few  months 
after  father's  death  that  Uncle  Fred,  from  being  an  oc- 
casional visitor,  came  to  living  with  us  all  the  time,— 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  203 

made  his  home  there,  though  seldom  within  doors  night 
or  day.  He  was  several  years  younger  than  mother. 
He  was  the  youngest,  it  seems,  of  the  family,  '■  the 
baby,'  and  had  been  petted  and  spoiled  from  earliest 
infancy.  I  soon  found  why  he  came.  Mother  wa3 
often  in  tears,  Uncle  Fred  always  begging  or  demand- 
ing money.  The  boys  at  school  twitted  me  about  my 
gambler  uncle,  though  I've  no  doubt  their  fathers 
gambled  as  much  as  he.  These  were  just  before  the 
early  days  of  the  great  war  that  sprang  up  in  '61  and 
that  we  boys  out  on  the  Pacific  coast  only  vaguely 
understood.  Sometimes  Uncle  Fred  came  home  drunk 
and  I  could  hear  him  threatening  poor  mother,  and 
things  went  from  bad  to  worse,  and  one  night  when  I 
was  just  thirteen  I  was  awakened  from  sound  sleep  by 
her  scream.  In  an  instant  I  flew  to  her  room,  catch- 
ing up  as  I  ran  father's  old  bowie-knife  that  always 
hung  by  my  door.  In  the  dim  light  I  saw  her  lying 
by  the  bedside,  a  man  bending  over  and  choking  her. 
With  all  my  strength  I  slashed  at  him  just  as  he 
turned.  I  meant  to  kill,  but  the  turn  saved  him.  He 
sprang  to  his  feet  with  an  oath  and  cry  and  rushed  to 
the  wash-stand.  I  had  laid  Uncle  Fred's  cheek  open 
from  ear  to  chin. 

"  It  was  long  before  mother  could  check  the  flow  of 
the  blood.  It  sobered  him,  of  course,  and  made  him 
piteously  weak.     For  days  after  that  she  nursed  and 


204  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

cared  for  him,  but  forbade  my  entering  the  room. 
Men  came  to  see  him, — insisted  on  seeing  him, — and 
she  would  send  me  to  the  bank  for  gold  and  pay  their 
claims  and  bid  them  go.  At  last  he  was  able  to  walk 
out  with  that  awful  slash  on  his  thin  white  face.  Once 
then  he  met  and  cursed  me,  but  I  did  not  mind,  I  had 
acted  only  to  save  mother.  How  could  I  suppose  that 
her  assailant  was  her  own  brother  ?  Then  finally  with 
sobs  and  tears  she  told  me  the  story,  how  he  had  been 
their  mother's  darling,  how  wild  and  reckless  was  his 
youth,  how  her  mother's  last  thought  seemed  to  be  for 
him,  and  how  on  her  knees  she,  my  own  mother, 
promised  to  take  care  of  poor  Freddie  and  shield  him 
from  every  ill,  and  this  promise  she  repeated  to  me, 
bidding  me  help  her  keep  it  and  to  conceal  as  far  as 
I  could  her  brother's  misdeeds.  For  a  few  months 
things  went  a  little  better.  Uncle  Fred  got  a  com- 
mission in  a  California  regiment  towards  the  close  of 
the  war  and  was  seut  down  to  Arizona.  Then  came 
more  tears  and  trouble.  I  couldn't  understand  it  all 
then,  but  I  do  now.  Uncle  Fred  was  gambling  again, 
drawing  on  her  for  means  to  meet  his  losses.  The  old 
home  went  under  the  hammer,  and  we  moved  down  to 
San  Diego,  where  father  had  once  invested  and  had  left 
a  little  property.  And  then  came  the  news  that  Uncle 
Fred  had  been  dismissed,  all  on  account  of  drink  and 
gambling  and  misappropriation  of  funds.     Miss  Har- 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  205 

vey  knows  all  about  this,  lieutenant,  for  mother  told 
her  and  had  reason  to.  And  next  came  forgery,  and 
we  were  stranded.  We  heard  that  he  had  gone  after 
that  with  a  wagon-train  to  Texas.  I  got  employ- 
ment on  a  ranch,  and  then  mother  married  again, 
married  a  man  who  had  long  befriended  us  and  who 
could  give  her  a  comfortable  home.  She  is  now  Mrs. 
Malcomb  Bland,  of  San  Francisco,  and  Mr.  Bland 
offered  to  take  me  into  his  store,  but  I  loved  the  open 
air  and  independence.  Mr.  Bland  and  Mr.  Harvey 
had  business  relations,  and  when  Uncle  Fred  was  next 
heard  from  he  was  '  starving  to  death,'  he  said,  '  actu- 
ally dying.'  He  wrote  to  mother  from  Yuma.  Mother 
wired  me  to  go  to  him  at  once,  and  I  did.  He  was 
considerably  out  at  elbows,  but  in  no  desperate  need 
yet.  Just  then  Mr.  Harvey  offered  him  a  good  salary 
to  take  charge  of  his  freight-train.  We  all  knew  how 
that  must  have  been  brought  about,  and  I  felt  that  it 
would  only  be  a  matter  of  time  when  he  would  rob 
his  new  employer.  He  did ;  was  discharged,  but  Mr. 
Bland  made  the  amount  good,  and  the  matter  was 
hushed  up.  Then  he  drove  stage  awhile  and  then 
disappeared.  Mother  has  written  me  time  and  again 
to  find  him  or  find  out  what  has  become  of  him,  and 
I  promised  I  would  leave  no  stone  unturned.  Tell 
her  I  have  kept  my  word.  Tell  her  I  found  him. 
But  tell  her  for  God's  sake  to  think  no  more  of  him. 

18 


206  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

Tell  her  not  to  strive  to  find  him  or  to  ask  what  he 
is  or  even  where  he  is  beyond  that  he  has  gone  to 
Sonora." 

"Lieutenant,"  said  Patterson,  suddenly  appearing  ac 
the  opening,  "  could  you  step  here  a  moment  ?" 

Drummond  springs  up. 

"  One  moment,  Mr.  Drummond,"  whispers  Wing, 
weakly ;  "  I  must  say  one  word  to  you — alone." 

"I'll  return  in  a  minute,  sergeant.  Let  me  see 
what  Patterson  wants." 

Miss  Harvey  and  Ruth  have  risen  ;  the  former  is 
very  pale  and  evidently  trembling  under  some  strong 
emotion.     Once  more  she  bends  over  him. 

"Drink  this,  Mr.  Wing,  and  now  talk  no  more 
than  you  absolutely  have  to." 

Then  renewing  the  cooling  bandage  on  his  forehead, 
her  hands  seem  to  linger — surely  her  eyes  do — as  she 
rises  once  more  to  her  feet. 

Meantime  the  lieutenant  has  stepped  out  into  the 
caflon. 

"  What  is  it,  Patterson?  quick  !" 

"That  was  some  of  our  fellows,  sir,  a  squad  of 
four ;  but  they  turned  all  of  a  sudden  and  galloped 
back  out  of  sight.  It  looks  to  me  as  though  they 
were  attacked." 

"How  far  away  were  they?  How  many  miles 
down  the  desert  ?" 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  207 

"Oh,  at  least  six  or  eight  miles  down,  sir;  down 
beyond  where  you  met  them  yesterday." 

"  How  about  our  trail  ?     Anybody  in  sight  there  ?" 

"  Nobody,  sir,  not  even  a  thing,  not  even  a  whiff 
of  dust." 

"  Very  well.  Keep  on  the  alert.  It's  good  to  know 
that  all  the  Apaches  are  not  around  us  yet.  Neither 
bullet  nor  arrow  can  get  down  here  so  long  as  we  man 
the  rocks  above.     I'll  be  out  in  a  moment." 

Then  once  more  he  kneels  by  Wing. 

"Lieutenant,  did  you  ever  see  a  girl  behave  with 
greater  bravery  ?  Do  you  know  what  she  has  under- 
gone ? — Miss  Harvey,  I  mean  ?" 

"Both  are  behaving  like  heroines,  Wing,  and  I 
think  I  am  beginning  to  see  through  this  plot  at  last." 

"  Never  let  mother  know  it, — promise  me,  sir, — but 
when  Harvey  discharged  him — my  uncle,  I  mean — he 
swore  he'd  be  revenged  on  the  old  man,  and  'twas 
he " 

"  The  double-dyed  villain !  I  know,  I  understand 
now,  Wing ;  you  needn't  tell  me.  He  has  been  in  the 
pay  of  the  Morales  gang  for  months.  He  enlisted  so 
as  to  learn  all  the  movements  of  officers  and  scouting- 
parties.  He  enlisted  under  his  benefactor's  name.  He 
has  forged  that,  too,  in  all  probability,  and  then,  de- 
serting, it  was  he  who  sought  to  carry  away  these  pre- 
cious girls,  and  he  came  within  an  ace  of  succeeding. 


208  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

By  the  Eternal,  but  there  will  be  a  day  of  reckoning  for 
him  if  ever  (C  troop  runs  foul  of  him  again!  No 
wonder  you  couldn't  sleep,  poor  fellow,  for  thinking 
of  that  mother.  This  caps  the  climax  of  his  scoun- 
drelism.  Where, — when  did  you  see  him  last? — 
since  he  enlisted  ?" 

But  now  Wing's  face  is  again  averted.  He  is  cover- 
ing it  with  his  arms. 

"  Wing,  answer  me !"  exclaims  Drummond,  spring- 
ing suddenly  to  his  feet.  "  By  heaven,  I  demand  to 
know  !"  Then  down  on  his  knees  he  goes  again, 
seizing  and  striving  to  pull  away  the  nearest  arm. 
"  You  need  not  try,  you  cannot  conceal  it  now.  I  see 
it  all, — all.  Miss  Harvey,"  he  cries,  looking  up  into 
the  face  of  the  trembling  girl,  who  has  hastened  in  at 
sound  of  the  excitement  in  his  voice, — "  Miss  Harvey, 
think  of  it ;  'twas  no  Apache  who  shot  him,  'twas  a 
worse  savage, — his  own  uncle." 

"  Promise  me  mother  shall  not  know,"  pleads  poor 
Wing,  striving  to  rise  upon  his  elbow,  striving  to  re- 
strain the  lieutenant,  who  again  has  started  to  his  feet. 
"  Promise  me,  Miss  Fanny ;  you  know  how  she  loved 
him,  how  she  plead  with  you." 

"I  promise  you  this,  Wing,"  says  Drummond, 
through  his  clinching  teeth,  "that  there'll  be  no  time 
for  prayer  if  ever  we  set  eyes  on  him  again ;  there'll 
be  no  mercy." 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  209 

"  You  can't  let  your  men  kill  him  in  cold  blood, 
lieutenant.     I  could  not  shoot  him." 

"  No,  but,  by  the  God  of  heaven,  I  could !" 

And  now  as  Wing,  exhausted,  sinks  back  to  his 
couch  his  head  is  caught  on  Fanny  Harvey's  arm  and 
next  is  pillowed  in  her  lap. 

"  Hush  !"  she  murmurs,  bending  down  over  him  as 
mother  might  over  sleeping  child.  "  Hush  !  you  must 
not  speak  again.  I  know  how  her  heart  is  bound  up 
in  you,  and  I'm  to  play  mother  to  you  now." 

And  as  Drummond,  tingling  all  over  with  wrath 
and  excitement,  stands  spellbound  for  the  moment,  a 
light  step  comes  to  his  side,  a  little  hand  is  laid  on  the 
bandaged  arm,  and  Ruth  Harvey's  pretty  face,  two  big 
tears  trickling  down  her  cheeks,  is  looking  up  in  his. 

"  You,  too,  will  be  ill,  Mr.  Drummond.  Oh,  why 
can't  you  go  and  lie  down  and  rest  ?  What  will  we 
do  if  both  of  you  are  down  at  once  with  fever  ?" 

She  is  younger  by  over  two  years  than  her  brave 
sister.  Tall  though  she  has  grown,  Ruth  is  but  a  child, 
and  now  in  all  her  excitement  and  anxiety,  worn  out 
with  the  long  strain,  she  begins  to  cry.  She  strives  to 
hide  it,  strives  to  control  the  weakness,  and,  failing  in 
both,  strives  to  turn  away.  All  to  no  purpose.  An 
arm  in  a  sling  is  of  little  avail  at  such  a  moment 
Whirling  quickly  about,  Drummond  brings  his  other 
into  action.  Before  the  weeping  little  maid  is  well 
o  18* 


210  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

aware  what  is  happening  her  waist  is  encircled  by  the 
strong  arm  in  the  dark-blue  sleeve,  and  how  can  she 
see  that  she  is  drawn  to  his  breast,  since  now  her  face 
is  buried  in  both  her  hands  and  those  hands  in  the 
flannel  of  his  hunting-shirt, — just  as  high  as  his  heart  ? 
Small  wonder  is  it  that  Corporal  Costigan,  hurrying 
in  at  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  stops  short  at  sight  of 
this  picturesque  parlie  carrte.  Any  other  time  he 
would  have  sense  enough  to  face  about  and  tiptoe 
whence  he  came,  but  now  there's  no  room  left  for  sen- 
timent. Tableaux-vivants  are  lovely  in  their  way,  even 
in  a  cave  lighted  dimly  by  a  hurricane-lamp,  but  sterner 
scenes  are  on  the  curtain.  Drummoud's  voice  is  mur- 
muring soothing,  yes,  caressing  words  to  his  sobbing 
captive.  Drummond's  bearded  lips,  unrebuked,  are 
actually  pressing  a  kiss  upon  that  childish  brow  when 
Costigan,  with  a  preliminary  clearing  of  his  throat 
that  sounds  like  a  landslide  and  makes  the  rock  walls 
ring  again,  startles  Ruth  from  her  blissful  woe  and 
brings  Drummond  leaping  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave. 

"  Lieutenant,  there's  something  coming  out  over  our 
trail." 

"  Thank  God  !"  sighs  Wing,  as  he  raises  his  eyes  to 
those  of  his  fair  nurse.  "  Thank  God !  for  your 
sakes !" 

"  Thank  God,  Ruth  !"  cries  Fanny,  extending  one 
hand  to  her  sister  while  the  other  is  unaccountably  de- 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  211 

tained.  "  Thank  God !  it's  father  and  the  Stoneman 
party  and  Doctor  Gray." 

And  Ruth,  throwing  herself  upon  her  knees  by  her 
sister's  side,  buries  her  head  upon  her  shoulder  and 
sobs  anew  for  very  joy. 

And  then  comes  sudden  start.  All  in  an  instant 
there  rings,  echoing  down  the  caflon,  the  sharp,  spite- 
ful crack  of  rifles,  answered  by  shrieks  of  terror  from 
the  cave  where  lie  the  Moreno  women,  and  by  other 
shots  out  along  the  range.  Three  faces  blanch  with 
sudden  fear,  though  Wing  looks  iustantly  up  to  say, — 

"  They  can't  harm  you,  and  our  men  will  be  here 
in  less  than  no  time." 

Out  in  the  gorge  men  are  springing  to  their  feet  and 
seizing  their  ready  arms;  horses  are  snorting  and 
stamping ;  mules  braying  in  wild  terror.  Two  of  the 
ambulance  mules,  breaking  loose  from  their  fastenings, 
come  charging  down  the  resounding  rock,  nearly  anni- 
hilating Moreno,  who,  bound  and  helpless,  praying  and 
cursing  by  turns,  has  rolled  himself  out  of  his  nook 
and  lies  squarely  in  the  way  of  everything  and  every- 
body. But  above  all  the  clamor,  the  ring  of  carbine, 
the  hiss  and  spat  of  lead  flattening  upon  the  rocks, 
Drummond's  voice  is  heard  clear  and  commanding, 
serene  and  confident. 

"  Every  man  to  his  post  now.  Remember  your 
orders." 


212  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

Gazing  out  into  the  canon  with  dilated,  eyes,  Ruth 
sees  him  nimbly  clamber  up  the  opposite  side  to- 
wards the  point  where  Walsh  is  kneeling  behind  a 
rock, — Walsh  with  his  Irish  mug  expanded  in  a  grin 
of  delight,  the  smoke  just  drifting  from  the  muzzle 
of  his  carbine  as  he  points  with  his  left  hand  some- 
where out  along  the  cliffs.  She  sees  her  soldier  boy, 
crouching  low,  draw  himself  to  Walsh's  side,  sees  him 
glancing  eagerly  over  the  rocks,  then  signalling  to 
some  one  on  their  own  side,  pointing  here  and  there 
along  the  wooded  slope  beyond  her  vision ;  sees  him 
now,  with  fierce  light  in  his  eyes,  suddenly  clutch 
Walsh's  sleeve  and  nod  towards  some  invisible  object 
to  the  south ;  sees  Walsh  toss  the  butt  of  his  carbine 
to  the  shoulder  and  with  quick  aim  send  a  bullet 
driving  thither;  sees  Drummond  take  the  field-glass 
and,  resting  it  on  the  eastward  ledge,  gazo  long  and 
fixedly  out  over  the  eastward  way ;  sees  him  start, 
draw  back  the  glass,  wipe  the  lenses  with  his  silken 
kerchief,  then  peer  again ;  sees  him  drop  them  with  a 
gesture  almost  tragic,  but  she  cannot  hear  the  moan 
that  rises  to  his  lips. 

"  My  God  !  those  are  Apaches,  too." 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  213 


XI. 

Ten  o'clock  on  a  blazing  Arizona  morning.  The 
hot  sun  is  pouring  down  upon  the  jagged  front  of  9 
range  of  heights  where  occasional  clumps  of  pine  and 
cedar,  scrub  oak  and  juniper,  seemed  the  only  vegetable 
products  hardy  enough  to  withstand  the  alternations 
of  intense  heat  by  day  and  moderate  cold  by  night,  or 
to  find  sufficient  sustenance  to  eke  out  a  living  on  so 
barren  a  soil.  Out  to  the  eastward,  stretching  away 
to  an  opposite  range,  lies  a  sandy  desert  dotted  at  wide 
intervals  with  little  black  bunches  of  "  scrub  mezquite" 
and  blessed  with  only  one  redeeming  patch  of  foliage, 
the  copse  of  willows  and  cottonwood  here  at  the  mouth 
of  a  rock-ribbed  defile  where  a  little  brook,  rising 
heaven  knows  how  or  where  among  the  heights  to  the 
west,  comes  frothing  and  tumbling  down  through  the 
windings  of  the  gorge  only  to  bury  itself  in  the  burn- 
ing sands  beyond  the  shade.  So  narrow  and  tortuous 
is  the  caflon,  so  precipitous  its  sides,  as  to  prove  conclu- 
sively that  by  no  slow  process,  but  by  some  sudden 
spasm  of  nature,  was  it  rent  in  the  face  of  the  range. 
And  here  in  its  depths,  just  around  one  of  the  sharpest 


214  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

bends,  honey-combed  out  of  the  solid  rock  are  half  a 
dozen  deep  lateral  fissures  and  caves  where  the  sun- 
beams never  penetrate,  where  the  air  is  reasonably  cool 
and  still,  where  on  this  scorching  May  morning,  far 
away  from  home  and  relatives,  two  young  girls  are 
sheltered  by  the  natural  roofs  and  walls  against  the 
fiery  sunshine  and  by  a  little  band  of  resolute  men 
against  the  fury  of  the  Apaches. 

Down  in  the  roomiest  of  the  caves  Fanny  and  Kuth 
Harvey  are  listening  in  dread  anxiety  to  the  sounds 
of  savage  warfare  echoing  from  crag  to  crag  along  the 
range,  while  every  moment  or  two  the  elder  turns  to 
moisten  the  cloth  she  holds  to  a  wounded  trooper's 
burning,  tossing  head.  Sergeant  Wing  is  fevered  in- 
deed by  this  time,  raging  with  misery  at  thought  of 
his  helplessness  and  the  scant  numbers  of  the  defence. 
It  is  a  bitter  pill  for  the  soldier  to  swallow,  this  of 
lying  in  hospital  when  every  man  is  needed  at  the 
front.  At  nine  o'clock  this  morning  a  veteran  Indian 
fighter,  crouching  in  his  sheltered  lookout  above  the 
caves  and  scanning  with  practised  eye  the  frowning 
front  of  the  range,  declared  that  not  an  Apache  was 
to  be  seen  or  heard  within  rifle-shot,  yet  was  in  no 
wise  surprised  when,  a  few  minutes  later,  as  he  hap- 
pened to  show  his  head  above  the  rocky  parapet,  there 
came  zipping  a  dozen  bullets  about  his  ears  and  the 
cliffs  fairly  crackled  with  the  sudden  flash  of  rifles 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  215 

hidden  up  to  that  instant  on  every  side.  Indians  who 
can  creep  upon  wagon-train  or  emigrant  camp  in  the 
midst  of  an  open  aud  unsheltered  plain  find  absolutely 
no  difficulty  in  surrounding  unsuspected  and  unseen  a 
bivouac  in  the  mountains.  Inexperienced  officers  or 
men  would  have  been  picked  off  long  before  the  open- 
ing of  the  general  attack,  but  the  Apaches  themselves 
are  the  first  to  know  that  they  have  veteran  troopers 
to  deal  with,  for  up  to  this  moment  only  one  has 
shown  himself  at  all.  At  five  minutes  after  nine 
o'clock  Lieutenant  Drummond,  glancing  exultingly 
around  upon  his  little  band  of  fighters,  had  blessed 
the  foresight  of  Pasqual  Morales  and  his  gang  that 
they  had  so  thoroughly  fortified  their  lair  against 
sudden  assault.  Three  on  the  southern,  two  on  the 
northern  brink  of  the  gorge  aud  behind  impenetrable 
shelter,  and  two  more  in  reserve  in  the  cafion,  his  puny 
garrison  was  in  position  and  had  replied  with  such 
spirit  and  promptitude  to  the  Apache  attack  that  only 
at  rare  intervals  now  is  a  shot  necessary,  except  when 
for  the  purpose  of  drawing  the  enemy  and  locating 
his  position  a  hat  is  poked  up  on  the  muzzle  of  a  car- 
bine. The  assailants'  fire,  too,  is  still,  but  that,  as 
Drummond's  men  well  know,  means  only  "look  out 
for  other  devilment." 

Out  on  the  eastward  desert,  still  far  over  towards 
the  other  side,  a  little  party  of  Apaches  is  hurrying  to 


216  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

join  the  fray.  Two  are  riding.  Where  got  they  their 
horses  ?  The  others — over  half  a  dozen— come  along 
at  their  tireless  jog-trot.  It  was  this  party  that,  seen 
but  dimly  at  first,  gave  rise  to  such  ebullition  of  joy 
among  the  defenders  and  defended.  It  was  this  party 
that,  closely  scanned  through  his  field-glass,  occasioued 
Lieutenant  Drurnmond's  moan  of  distress.  With  all 
his  heart  he  had  been  hoping  for  the  speedy  coming 
of  relief  over  that  very  trail, — had  counted  on  its 
reaching  him  during  the  day.  He  was  sure  it  could 
be  nothing  else  when  the  corporal  reported  something 
in  sight,  and  so  when  he  discovered  the  approaching 
party  to  be  Apaches  no  words  could  describe  the 
measure  of  his  disappointment  and  dismay.  Not  for 
himself  and  his  men ;  they  were  old  hands  and  had  a 
fine  position  to  defend.  His  thoughts  are  all  for  those 
in  whose  behalf  he  has  already  made  such  gallant  fight 
and  for  poor  Wing,  whose  feeble  moaning  every  now 
and  then  reaches  his  ear. 

At  ten  o'clock  he  is  able  through  his  glasses  to  dis- 
tinctly make  out  the  number  and  character  of  the 
coming  party.  Nine  Apaches,  all  warriors,  but  one 
of  them  apparently  wounded  or  disabled,  for  they 
have  to  support  him  on  the  horse,  and  this  it  is  that 
hampers  their  advance  and  makes  it  slower.  They 
are  heading  for  the  oasis  at  the  mouth  of  the  caflon. 
There  they  will  leave  their  horses  and  their  wounded, 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  217 

and  then  come  creeping  up  the  winding  gorge  or 
crouching  among  the  bowlders  from  the  east  to  join 
in  the  attack  on  the  hated  pale-face.  Drummond  can 
have  no  doubt  of  that.    New  dispositions  are  necessary. 

"  Stay  where  you  are !"  he  shouts  to  his  men.  "  You 
take  charge  up  here,  Costigan ;  I  want  to  post  a  man  or 
two  below  at  the  bend."  And  down  he  goes,  sliding 
and  scrambling  until  he  reaches  the  edge  of  the  brook. 
Moreno,  squatted  against  a  rock,  glances  up  at  him 
appealingly. 

"Seilor  Teniente,  I  pray  you  unloose  me  and  let 
me  help.  The  Apache  is  our  common  enemy,"  he 
pleads. 

An  idea  comes  to  Drummond.  Wing's  carbine  can 
be  utilized.  He  can  post  Moreno  down  the  gorge  at 
the  second  bend  to  command  that  approach  and  put 
little  McGuffey,  the  recruit,  at  the  next  bend  to  com- 
mand Moreno  and  send  a  bullet  through  him  if  he 
shirk  or  swerve. 

"  I  declare,  I  believe  I  will,  you  old  scoundrel,"  he 
says.  "  Here,  McGuffey,  untie  this  fellow.  I've  got 
to  look  around  a  minute." 

Into  the  depth  of  the  fissure  where  Moreno's  women 
are  praying  and  rocking  he  peers  a  moment.  One  of 
the  wounded  bandits  is  now  past  praying  for.  The 
other,  painfully  shot  but  plucky,  begs  to  be  given  a 
chance  to  fight  for  his  life. 
x  19 


218  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

"You  are  too  badly  hurt  uow.  We  couldn't  get 
you  up  there,"  is  the  answer. 

"Well,  then,  put  me  on  with  Moreno,  wherever 
you're  going  to  assign  him.  Surely  if  you  can  trust 
a  Greaser  you  can  a  white  man.  I'm  only  fit  to  hang, 
perhaps,  but  damn  me  if  I  want  to  lie  here  when 
there's  an  Indian  fight  going  on." 

And  so  he,  too,  is  unloosed  and  lifted  to  his  feet. 
Leaning  on  McGuffey's  shoulder  and  supported  by  his 
arm,  the  pale-faced  stranger,  preceded  by  Moreno,  who 
goes  limping  and  swearing  sotto  voce  down  the  rocky 
way,  is  led  a  hundred  yards  along  the  cafion  where  it 
makes  a  second  bend.  Here  they  can  see  nearly  one 
hundred  and  fifty  more  ahead  of  them,  and  here  some 
loose  bowlders  are  hurriedly  shoved  or  rolled  to  form 
a  rifle-pit,  and  these  volunteer  allies  are  placed  in 
position. 

"  We  cover  the  approaches  above  so  that  they  can't 
sneak  up  and  heave  rocks  down  upon  you.  All  you've 
got  to  do  now  is  to  plug  every  Apache  that  shows 
his  nose  around  that  bend  below,"  says  Drummond. 
"McGuffey,  you  take  post  at  the  point  behind. 
Watch  the  overhanging  cliffs  and  support  as  best  you 
can."  And  "  Little  Mack,"  as  the  men  call  him,  gets 
further  instructions  as  he  takes  his  position,  instruc- 
tions which  would  give  small  comfort  to  Moreno  could 
he  only  hear  them.     Then  back  goes  the  lieutenant 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  219 

to  where  Wing  is  lying,  Miss  Harvey  bending  anx- 
iously over  him,  her  beautiful  eyes  filling  with  tears 
at  sight  of  Drummond's  brave  but  haggard  young 
face.  Ruth  is  crouching  by  her  sister's  side,  but  rises 
quickly  as  Druramond  enters,  her  fears  lessening,  her 
hopes  gaining. 

"Any  news?  Anything  in  sight — of  ours?"  is 
Miss  Harvey's  eager  query. 

"  Not  yet,  but  they're  bouud  to  be  along  almost  any 
minute  now.  Some  Apaches  whom  T  could  see  coming 
across  from  the  east  have  a  wounded  man  with  them. 
It  makes  me  hope  our  fellows  have  met  and  fought 
them  and  are  following  close  on  their  trail.  How's 
Wing?" 

She  can  only  shake  her  head. 

"  He  seems  delirious  every  now  and  then ;  perhaps 
only  because  of  so  much  mental  excitement  and  suffer- 
ing.    He  is  dozing  now." 

"  Gallant  fellow  !  What  would  we  have  done  with- 
out him  ?  I  only  wish  we  had  more  like  him.  Think 
how  all  my  detachment  has  become  scattered.  If  we 
had  them  here  now  I  could  push  out  and  drive  the 
Indiaus  to  the  rocks  and  far  beyond  all  possibility  of 
annoying  you  with  their  racket.  Of  course  you  are 
safe  from  their  missiles  down  here." 

"  Yes,  we  are ;  but  you  and  your  soldiers,  Mr. 
Drummond !     Every  shot   made  me  fear  you  were 


220  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

hit/'  cries  poor  little  Ruth,  her  eyes  filling,  her  lips 
quivering.  Then,  just  as  Drummoud  is  holding  forth 
a  hand,  perhaps  it  is  an  arm,  too,  she  points  up  to  the 
rock  above  where  Walsh  is  evidently  exercised  about 
something.  He  has  dropped  his  gun,  picked  up  the 
glasses,  and  is  gazing  down  the  range  to  the  south. 

"  Perhaps  he  sees  some  of  our  fellows  coming  for 
good  this  time.  Four  of  them  tried  it  awhile  ago, 
but  were  probably  attacked  some  miles  below  here  and 
fell  back  on  the  main  body.  They'll  be  along  before 
a  great  while,  and  won't  it  be  glorious  if  they  bring 
back  the  safe  and  all  ?"  He  says  this  by  way  of  keep- 
ing up  their  spirits,  then,  once  more  wearily,  but  full 
of  pluck  and  purpose,  he  climbs  the  rugged  path  and 
creeps  to  Walsh's  side. 

"  Is  it  any  of  our  men  you  sec  ?"  he  whispers. 

"  Divil  a  wan,  sir !  it's  more  of  thim  infernal 
Apaches." 

Drummond  takes  the  glass  and  studies  the  dim 
and  distant  group  with  the  utmost  care.  Apaches 
beyond  doubt,  a  dozen,  and  coming  this  way,  and 
these,  too,  have  a  couple  of  horses.  Can  they  have 
overpowered  his  men,  ambushed  and  murdered  them, 
then  secured  their  mounts?  Is  the  whole  Chiricahua 
tribe,  reinforced  by  a  swarm  from  the  Sierra  Blanca, 
concentrating  on  him  now  ?  The  silence  about  him  is 
ominous.     Not  an  Indian  has  shown  along  the  range 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  221 

for  half  an  hour,  and  now  these  fellows  to  the  east  are 
close  to  the  copse.  In  less  than  twenty  minutes  there 
will  be  five  times  his  puny  force  around  him.  Is  there 
no  hope  of  rescue? 

Once  more  he  turns  to  the  east,  across  the  shimmer- 
ing glare  of  that  parched  and  tawny  plain,  and  strains 
his  eyes  in  vain  effort  to  catch  sight  of  the  longed-for 
column  issuing  from  the  opposite  valley,  but  it  is  hope- 
less. The  hot  sun  beats  down  upon  his  bruised  and 
aching  head  and  sears  his  bloodshot  eyes.  He  raises 
his  hand  in  mute  appeal  to  heaven,  and  at  the  instant 
there  is  a  flash,  a  sharp  report  not  thirty  yards  away, 
an  angry  spat  as  the  leaden  missile  strikes  the  shelving 
top  of  his  parapet  and  goes  humming  across  the  gorge, 
a  stifled  shriek  from  Ruth  looking  fearfully  up  from 
below,  an  Irish  oath  from  Walsh  as  he  whirls  about 
to  answer  the  shot,  and  Drummond  can  barely  repress 
a  little  gasp. 

"  Narrow  squeak  that,  Walsh !  That  devil  has 
crawled  close  up  on  us.     Can  you  see  him  ?" 

"Begad,  sir,  I  can  see  nothing  at  all  but  rocks, 
rocks,  rocks.  How  can  a  man  fight  anyway  agin* 
human  beings  that  crawl  like  snakes  ?" 

Zip !  Another  shot  close  at  hand,  too,  and  from 
another  unseen  foe.  The  first  came  from  somewhere 
among  the  bowlders  down  to  the  southeast,  and  this 
second  whizzed  from  across  the  caflon.     A  little  puff 

19* 


222  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

of  blue  smoke  is  floating  up  from  among  the  rocks 
fifty  yards  or  so  to  the  north  of  the  narrow  slit. 

Crouching  lower,  Drummond  calls  across  to  Costigan, 
posted  as  the  easternmost  of  the  two  men  on  the  oppo- 
site side, — 

"  That  fellow  is  nearest  you,  corporal ;  can  you  see 
nothing  of  him  ?" 

"  Nothing,  sir ;  I  w*\s  looking  that  way,  too,  when 
he  fired.     Not  even  the  muzzle  of  his  gun  showed." 

This  is  serious  business.  If  one  Indian  or  two  can 
find  it  so  easy  to  creep  around  them  and,  armed  only 
with  their  old  muzzle-loading  guns,  send  frequent 
shots  that  reach  the  besieged  "  in  reverse,"  what  can 
be  hoped  when  the  whole  band  gathers  and  every 
rock  on  every  side  shelters  a  hostile  Apache?  From 
the  first  Drummond  has  feared  that  however  eifective 
might  be  these  defences  against  the  open  attack  of 
white  men,  they  are  ill  adapted  to  protect  the  defenders 
against  the  fire  of  Indians  who  can  climb  like  squirrels 
or  crawl  or  squirm  through  any  chink  or  crevice  like 
so  many  snakes. 

Another  shot !  Another  bullet  flattens  itself  on 
the  rock  close  to  his  right  shoulder  and  then  drops 
into  the  dust  by  his  knee.  It  comes  from  farther  up 
the  cliff, — perhaps  two  hundred  yards  away  among 
those  stunted  cedars, — but  shudderingly  close.  Costi- 
gan and  the  other  men  glance  anxiously  over  theis 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  223 

shoulders  at  the  point  where  their  young  commander 
and  Walsh  are  crouching.  They  are  not  yet  subjected 
to  a  fire  from  the  rear,  these  others.  The  lookout,  the 
signal-station,  as  it  might  be  called,  is  the  highest 
point  and  most  exposed  about  the  position. 

"For  God's  sake,  lieutenant,"  cries  the  corporal, 
"don't  stay  there.  They've  got  your  range  on  two 
sides  anyhow.  Come  out  of  it.  You  and  Walsh  can 
6lip  down  as  we  open  fire.  We'll  just  let  drive  in 
every  direction  until  you  are  safe  below." 

Drummond  hesitates.  He  sees  a  half-pleading  look 
in  Walsh's  honest  face.  The  Irishman  would  willingly 
tackle  the  whole  tribe  in  open  fight,  but  what  he  doesn't 
like  is  the  idea  of  being  potted  like  a  caged  tiger,  never 
knowing  whence  came  the  shot  that  laid  him  low. 
Then  the  lieutenant  peers  about  him.  Yes,  it  is  ex- 
posed to  fire  from  a  point  in  the  cliffs  to  the  west,  and 
there  are  rocks  over  there  to  the  north  that  seem  to 
command  it ;  but  if  abandoned  there  will  be  no  way 
of  preventing  a  bold  advance  on  part  of  the  Apaches 
up  the  rugged  eastward  slope.  It  would  then  stand 
between  the  defenders  and  the  assailants,  giving  to  the 
latter  incalculable  advantage.  Hold  it  he  must  for  a 
few  minutes  at  least,  until,  recalling  McGuffey,  he  can 
set  him  and  one  or  two  others  to  work  piling  up  a  rock 
barricade  in  front  of  the  cave.  Then  if  driven  out 
and  no  longer  able  to  stand  the  Indians  off,  they 


224  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

can  retire  into  the  caves  themselves,  hide  their  precious 
charges  in  the  farthest  depths,  and  then,  like  Buford 
at  Gettysburg,  "  fight  like  the  devil"  till  rescue  come. 

"  No,  down  with  you,  Costigan,"  he  answers.  "  Get 
McGuffey  and  Fritz ;  block  up  the  front  of  the  cave 
with  rocks ;  move  in  those  Moreno  women ;  carry 
Sergeant  "Wing  back  to  the  farther  cave, — Miss  Har- 
vey will  show  you  where.  Stand  fast  the  rest  of  you. 
Don't  let  an  Indian  close  in  on  us." 

"  Look,  lieut'nant,"  whispers  Walsh ;  "  they're 
coming  up  down  beyant  you  there." 

And,  peeping  through  a  narrow  slit  left  in  his  para- 
pet, Drummond  can  just  see  bobbing  among  the  bowl- 
ders far  down  towards  the  willow  copse  two  or  three 
Apache  crests, — Apache  unmistakably,  because  of  the 
dirty-white  turban-like  bandages  about  the  matted 
black  locks.  At  that  distance  they  advance  with 
comparative  security.  It  is  when  they  come  closer 
to  the  defenders  that  they  will  be  lost  to  view. 

Obedient  to  his  orders,  Costigan  slips  out  of  his 
shelter  and  "takes  a  sneak"  for  the  edge  of  the  cliff. 
In  an  instant,  from  half  a  dozen  points  above,  below, 
and  on  both  sides,  there  come  the  flash  and  crack  of 
rifles.  The  dust  is  kicked  up  under  his  nimble  feet, 
but  he  reaches  unharmed  the  cleft  in  which  some  rude 
steps  have  been  hacked,  and  goes,  half  sliding,  half 
scraping,  down  into  the  cooler  depths  below. 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  225 

"  Mother  of  Moses !"  he  groans,  "  but  we'll  never 
get  the  lieut'nant  out  alive.  Shure  they're  all  around 
him  now." 

Then  bounding  down  the  gorge  he  finds  McGuffey 
kneeling  at  the  point. 

"They're  coming,  Barney,"  whispers  the  boy,  all 
eager  and  tremulous  with  excitement,  and  pointing 
down  between  the  vertical  walls.     "  Look  !"  he  says. 

Gazing  ahead  to  the  next  bend,  Costigan  can  see 
Moreno  and  his  Yankee  compadre  crouching  behind 
their  shelter,  their  carbines  levelled,  their  attitude 
betokening  intense  excitement  and  suspense.  It  is 
evident  the  enemy  are  within  view. 

"I'll  have  one  shot  at  'em,  bedad,  to  pay  for  the 
dozen  their  brother  blackguards  let  drive  at  me," 
mutters  Costigan.  "  Come  on,  you ;  it's  but  a  step." 
And,  forgetful  for  the  moment  of  his  orders  in  his 
eagerness  for  fight,  the  Irishman  runs  down  the  cafion, 
leaps  the  swirling  brook  just  as  he  reaches  the  point, 
and,  obedient  to  the  warning  hand  held  out  by  their 
bandit  ally,  drops  on  his  knees  at  the  bend,  McGuffey 
close  at  his  heels.  Off  go  their  hats.  Those  broad 
brims  would  catch  an  Indian  eye  even  in  that  gloom. 

"  How  many  are  there  coming  ?"  he  whispers. 

Moreno  puts  his  finger  on  his  lips,  then  throws  out 
his  hand,  four  fingers  extended. 

"  One  apiece  then,  be  jabers !  Now,  Little  Mac, 
P 


226  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

you're  to  take  the  second  from  the  right, — their  right,  I 
mean, — and  doan't  you  miss  him  or  I'll  break  every 
bone  in  your  skin." 

"Hist!" 

Down  they  go  upon  their  faces,  then,  Indian-like, 
they  crawl  a  few  feet  farther  where  there  is  a  little 
ledge.  The  cafion  widens  below  ;  the  light  is  stronger 
there,  and,  bending  double,  throwing  quick  glances  at 
one  another,  then  from  sheer  force  of  Indian  habit 
shading  their  eyes  with  their  brown  hands  as  they  peer 
to  the  front ;  exchanging  noiseless  signals ;  creeping 
like  cats  from  rock  to  rock ;  leaping  without  faintest 
sound  of  the  moccasined  foot  across  the  bubbling  waters, 
four  swarthy  scamps  are  coming  stealthily  on.  Two 
others  are  just  appearing  around  the  next  bend  be- 
yond. 

"  Ready,  boys  ?  They're  near  enough  now.  Cover 
the  two  leaders  !    Drop  the  first  two  anyhow  !" 

Breathless  silence,  thumping  hearts  one  instant 
longer,  then  the  chasm  bellows  with  the  loud  reports. 
The  four  guns  are  fired  almost  as  one.  One  half- 
naked  wretch  leaps  high  in  air  and  falls,  face  down- 
ward, dead  as  a  nail.  Another  whirls  about,  bounds 
a  few  yards  along  the  brook-side,  and  then  goes  splash- 
ing into  a  shallow  pool,  where  he  lies  writhing.  The 
two  farthest  down  the  cafion  have  slipped  back  behind 
the  rocky  shoulder.     The  other  two,  close  at  hand, 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  227 

have  rolled  behind  the  nearest  shelter  and  thence  send 
harmless  bullets  whizzing  overhead.  Costigan  lets 
drive  a  wild  Irish  yell  of  triumph  and  delight. 

"  Now,  then,  run  for  it,  boy.  Well  done,  you  two, 
if  ye  are  blackguards,"  he  calls  to  Moreno  and  his 
mate.  "  They  won't  disturb  ye  again  for  ten  minutes 
anyhow.  Hold  your  post,  though,  till  we  call  you 
back.     We're  going  to  block  the  mouth  of  the  cave." 

Twenty  minutes  later  and,  working  like  beavers, 
Costigan  and  his  two  men  have  lugged  rocks,  logs, 
bales  of  blankets,  everything,  anything  that  can 
stop  a  bullet,  and  the  entrance  to  the  cave  is  being 
stoutly  barricaded.  Patterson,  who  was  sorely  exposed 
at  his  post  and  ordered  down  by  Lieutenant  Drurn- 
mond,  is  aiding  in  the  work.  Wing  has  been  care- 
fully borne  into  the  back  cave,  whither,  too,  the  wail- 
ing, quaking  Moreno  women  are  herded  and  bidden  to 
hold  their  peace.  There,  too,  Fanny  and  Ruth,  silent, 
pallid  perhaps,  but  making  no  moan,  are  now  kneeling 
by  their  patient.  Costigan  runs  in  with  two  buckets 
he  has  filled  with  water  and  "  Little  Mac"  follows  with 
half  a  dozen  dripping  canteens.  More  rocks  are 
being  lifted  on  the  barricade,  convenient  apertures 
being  left  through  which  to  fire,  and  Costigan,  fever- 
ishly eager,  is  making  every  exertion,  for  any  minute 
may  be  the  last  with  those  plucky  fellows  battling 
there  aloft.     The  air  rings  with  the  shots  of  the  eneir* 


228  FOES  IN  AMBUSn. 

cling  Apaches  and  with  the  loud  report  of  the  cavalry 
carbine  answering  the  hidden  foe.  Twice  has  Costigan 
implored  the  lieutenant  to  come  down  anyhow,  so  long 
as  his  crippled  condition  prevents  his  firing  a  gun,  but 
Druramond  pokes  his  bandaged  head  one  instant  over 
the  edge  to  shout  something  to  the  effect  that  he  is  "on 
deck"  until  he  has  seen  the  last  man  down,  and  Cos- 
tigan knows  it  is  useless  to  argue.  At  last  the  barri- 
cade is  ready.  Walsh,  peering  grimly  around,  just  the 
top  of  his  head  showing  over  the  parapet,  begs  for  one 
shot  and  shouts  his  Hibernian  challenge  to  the  Apache 
nation  to  come  forth  and  show  itself.  Drummoud 
picks  up  the  glasses  for  one  final  look  down  the  desert 
and  across  the  valley  in  search  of  friends  who  surely 
should  be  coming,  cautiously  places  the  "binocular'' 
on  the  inner  edge  of  the  top  of  his  shelving  rock,  then 
raises  his  head  to  the  level. 

"  Fur  the  love  o'  God,  loot'n'nt,  don't  sit  so  high 

up  !"  implores  Walsh.      "  They're   sure  to  spot 

Oh,  Christ !"  And  down  goes  the  poor  faithful 
fellow,  the  blood  welling  from  a  deep  gash  along  the 
temple.     He  lies  senseless  at  his  commander's  feet. 

For  a  moment  the  air  seems  alive  with  humming 
missiles  and  shrill  with  yells  from  on  every  side.  In 
their  triumph  three  or  four  savage  foes  have  leaped 
up  from  behind  their  sheltering  rocks,  and  one  of 
them  pays  the  penalty, — a  vengeful  carbine  from  across 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  229 

the  cafion  stretches  the  lithe,  slender,  dusky  form  life- 
less among  the  rocks,  with  the  dirty  white  of  his  breech- 
clout  turning  crimson  in  the  noonday  glare.  Up  from 
the  cave,  cat-like,  Patterson  and  "  Little  Mac"  come 
climbing  the  narrow  trail.  Between  them  they  drag 
Walsh's  senseless  body  to  the  edge,  and  then,  somehow, 
despite  hissing,  spattering  lead,  they  bear  him  safely 
down  and  carry  him  within  the  cave. 

"  Now  call  in  Moreno  and  help  his  partner  back !" 
shouts  Drummond,  and  Costigan  goes  at  speed  to  carry 
out  the  order.  A  few  minutes  of  intense  excitement 
and  suspense,  then  Moreno  is  seen  limping  around  the 
point.  Behind  him  Costigan  is  slowly  helping  their 
brigand  friend.  A  few  more  shots  come  singing  over- 
head. A  moment  more  and  the  watchful  Indians  will 
come  charging  up  the  now  unguarded  canon  and 
crowning  both  banks. 

"Now,  lads,  give  'em  two  or  three  shots  apiece  to 
make  them  hug  their  cover.  Then  down  for  the  caves, 
every  man  of  you,"  is  the  order. 

For  a  moment  the  Indian  fire  is  silenced  in  the  rapid 
fusillade  that  follows.  Sharp  and  quick  the  carbines 
are  barking  their  challenge,  and  whenever  a  puff  of 
powder-smoke  has  marked  the  probable  lurking-place 
of  an  Apache,  thither  hiss  the  searching  bullets  warn- 
ing him  to  keep  down.  Then  Costigan  comes  climbing 
to  the  lookout. 


230  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

"Let  us  help  you,  lieut'nantj  now's  your  time, 
sir,  while  they're  firing." 

But  Drummond  shakes  his  head.  He  wants  to  be 
the  last  man  down. 

"  Don't  hang  on  here,  sir.  Come  now.  Sure  the 
others  can  get  down  from  where  they  are  easy  enough, 
but  you  can't  except  when  they're  firing.  Please  come, 
sir,"  and  Costigan  in  his  eagerness  scrambles  to  the 
lieutenant's  side  and  lays  a  broad,  red  hand  on  his 
shoulder.  The  men  have  fired  more  than  the  desig- 
nated number  of  shots  and  now  are  looking  anxiously 
towards  their  commander.  They  do  not  wish  to 
move  until  he  does. 

"Give  'em  another  whack  all  around,  fellers/' 
shouts  Costigan,  "  while  I  help  the  lootVnt  down ;" 
and  so,  with  a  laugh,  Drummond  gives  it  up,  and  after 
one  last  wistful  glance  out  over  the  desert,  turns  to 
pick  up  the  binocular,  when  it  is  struck,  smashed,  and 
sent  clattering  down  into  the  cation  by  a  shot  fired  not 
twenty  yards  away. 

"  Fur  God's  sake  come  quick,  sir !"  gasps  Costigan. 
Then,  desperate  at  his  loved  young  leader's  delay,  the 
Irishman  throws  a  brawny  arm  about  him  and  fairly 
drags  him  to  the  end  of  the  steep.  Then  down  they 
go,  Costigan  leading  and  holding  up  one  hand  to  sus- 
tain Drummond  in  case  of  accident.  Down,  hand 
under  hand,  to  the  accompaniment  of  cracking  rifles 


FOES  JN  AMBUSH.  231 

and  answering  carbines,  while  every  other  second  the 
bullets  come  "  spat"  upon  the  rocky  sides,  close  and 
closer,  until,  panting,  almost  breathless,  Costigan  reaches 
the  solid  bottom  of  the  gorge  and  swings  Drummond 
to  his  feet  beside  him.  Seeing  their  leader  safely  down, 
the  men,  with  one  defiant  shot  and  cheer,  scurry  to  the 
edge  of  the  cafion,  and  come  slipping  and  sliding  to 
join  their  comrades.  At  the  mouth  of  the  cave  Costi- 
gan strives  to  push  Drummond  in  through  the  narrow 
aperture  left  for  their  admission,  but  miscalculates  his 
commander's  idea  of  the  proprieties.  Like  gallant 
Craven  at  Mobile  Bay,  Drummond  will  seek  no 
safety  until  his  men  are  cared  for.  "After  you, 
pilot,"  the  chivalric  sailor's  last  word  as  the  green 
waters  engulfed  his  sinking  ship,  finds  its  cavalry 
echo  in  Drummond's  "  After  you,  corporal,"  in  this 
far-away  cafion  in  desert  Arizona.  The  men  have 
scrambled  through  the  gap,  then  Costigan,  with  reluc- 
tant backward  glance,  is  hurried  in  just  as  a  flash  of 
flame  and  smoke  leaps  downward  from  the  crest  and 
the  foremost  Apache  sends  a  hurried,  ill-aimed  shot  at 
the  last  man  left.  Before  another  shot  can  follow, 
Drummond's  arm  is  seized  by  muscular  hands  and  he 
is  dragged  within  the  gap.  Two  or  three  huge  stones 
are  rolled  into  place,  and  in  an  instant  through  the 
ragged  loop-holes  the  black  muzzles  of  half  a  dozen 
carbines  are  thrusting,  and  Costigan  shouts  exultingly, 


232  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

m  Now,  you  black-legged  blackguards,  come  on  if  ye 
dare !" 

But  no  Apache  is  fool  enough  to  attack  a  strong 
position.  Keepiug  well  under  cover,  the  Indians  soon 
line  the  crest  and  begin  sending  down  a  rain  of  better- 
aimed  bullets  at  the  loop-holes,  and  every  minute  the 
flattened  lead  comes  zipping  through.  One  of  these 
fearful  missiles  tears  its  way  through  Costigan's  sleeve 
and,  striking  poor  old  Moreno  in  the  groin,  stretches 
him  groaning  upon  the  floor.  A  glance  shows  that 
the  wound  is  mortal,  and,  despite  his  crimes,  the  men 
who  bear  him,  moaning,  in  to  the  farther  cave  are 
moved  to  sudden  sympathy  as  his  hapless  wife  aud 
child  prostrate  themselves  beside  his  rocky  bier. 
Drummond  can  afford  to  lose  no  more,  and  orders  the 
lower  half  of  each  hole  to  be  stopped  with  blankets, 
blouses,  shirts,  anything  that  will  block  a  shot,  and 
then  for  an  hour  the  fire  of  the  besiegers  is  harmless, 
and  no  longer  can  the  besieged  catch  even  an  occasional 
glimpse  of  them.  At  noon  their  fire  has  ceased  en- 
tirely aud,  even  when  breathing  a  sigh  of  relief,  the 
men  look  into  one  another's  faces  questioningly.  How 
long  can  this  last  ?  How  hot,  how  close  the  air  in  the 
cave  is  growing  ! 

Drummond  has  gone  for  a  moment  into  the  inner 
chamber,  where  Moreno  is  now  breathing  his  last,  to 
inquire  for  Wing  and  to  speak  a  word  of  cheer  to  hia 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  233 

fair  and  devoted  nurses.  Not  one  murmur  of  com- 
plaint or  dread  has  fallen  from  their  lips,  though 
they  know  their  father  to  have  ridden  on  perilous 
quest  and  into  possible  ambush  ;  though  they  know 
their  brother  to  be  lying  at  the  ruined  ranch,  perhaps 
seriously  wounded  ;  though  their  own  fate  may  be  cap- 
ture, with  indescribable  suffering,  shame,  and  death. 
Fanny  Harvey  has  behaved  like  a  heroine,  as  the  two 
troopers  remarked,  and  Ruth  has  done  her  best  to 
follow  her  sister's  lead.  Yet  they,  too,  now  realize 
how  close  and  stifling  the  heavy  atmosphere  is  grow- 
ing. Is  it  to  be  black  hole  of  Calcutta  over  again  ? 
Even  as  he  takes  her  hand  in  his  Drummond  reads  the 
dread  in  Ruth's  tearless  face.  Even  as  he  holds  it  and 
whispers  words  of  hope  and  comfort  there  is  a  heavy, 
continuous,  crashing  sound  at  the  mouth  of  the  cave, 
just  in  front  of  the  rock  barricade,  and  he  springs  back 
to  learn  the  cause. 

u  They're  heaving  down  logs  and  brushwood,  sir," 
whispers  Costigan.  "They  mean  to  roast  us  out  if 
they  can't  do  anything  else." 

More  thunder  and  crash;  more  heaping  up  of  resin- 
ous logs  from  the  cliffs  above  them.  Some  of  the  men 
beg  to  be  allowed  to  push  out  and  die  fighting,  but 
Drummond  sternly  refuses.  "  At  the  worst,"  he  says, 
"  we  can  retire  into  the  back  cave ;  we  have  abundant 
water  there.     The  air  will  last  several  hours  yet,  and  I 

20* 


234  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

tell  you  help  will  come, — must  come,  before  the  day  is 
much  older." 

Two  o'clock.  Hissing  flames  and  scorching  heat 
block  the  cavern  entrance.  The  rocky  barrier  grows 
hotter  and  hotter;  the  air  within  denser  and  more 
stifling.  The  water  in  the  canteens  and  pails  is  no 
longer  cool.  It  is  hardly  even  cooling.  The  few  men 
who  remain  with  Drummond  in  the  front  of  the  cave 
are  lying  full  length  upon  the  floor.  The  pain  in 
Drummond's  battered  head  has  become  intense :  it  is 
almost  maddening.  Wing  is  moaning  and  unconscious. 
Walsh  is  incoherent  and  raving.  All  are  panting  and 
well-nigh  exhausted.  The  front  of  the  cave  is  like  an 
oven.  Overcome  by  the  heat,  one  or  two  of  the  men 
are  edging  towards  the  inner  cave,  but  Drummond 
orders  them  back.  To  the  very  last  the  lives  of  those 
fair  girls  must  be  protected  and  cherished.  In  silence, 
almost  in  desperation,  the  men  obey,  and  lie  down  again, 
face  downward,  their  heads  at  the  rear  wall  of  the  cave. 

And  then  Costigan  comes  crawling  to  the  lieuten- 
ant's side, — 

"Have  you  heard  any  more  logs  thrown  down 
lately,  sir  ?" 

"No,  corporal.     I  have  heard  nothing." 

"They  were  yellin'  and  shootin'  out  there  in  the 
gulch  half  an  hour  ago.  Have  ye  heard  no  more  of 
it,  sir?" 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  235 

"No;  no  sound  but  the  flames." 

"  Glory  be  to  God,  thin !  D'ye  know  what  it 
maues,  sir?" 

"  I  know  what  I  hope,"  is  Drummond's  faint  an- 
swer. "  Our  fellows  are  close  at  hand,  for  the  Indians 
are  clearing  out." 

"  Close  at  hand,  is  it  ?"  cries  Costigan,  in  wild  ex- 
citement, leaping  to  his  feet.  "  Listen,  sir  !  Listen, 
all  of  ye's !  D'ye  hear  that  ? — and  that  ?  And  there 
now !  Oh,  Holy  Mother  of  God !  isn't  that  music  ? 
Thim's  the  thrumpets  of  '  K'  throop  !" 

Ay.  Out  along  the  crests  of  the  winding  caflon 
the  rifles  are  ringing  again.  The  cheers  of  troopers, 
bounding  like  goats  up  the  rocky  sides,  are  answered 
by  clatter  of  hoof  and  snort  of  excited  steeds  in  the 
rocky  depths  below.  "  Here  we  are,  lads !  Dis- 
mount !  Lively  now !"  a  well-known  voice  is  order- 
ing, and  Costigan  fairly  screams  in  ecstasy  of  joy, 
"Tear  away  the  fire,  captain,  an'  then  we'll  heave 
over  the  rocks." 

Stalwart  forms,  brawny  arms,  are  already  at  the 
work.  The  wagon-tongues  are  prying  under  the 
heavy,  hissing,  sputtering  logs.  Daring  hands  scatter 
the  embers.  Buckets  of  water  are  dashed  over  the 
live  coals.  "  Up  wid  ye  now,  boys  !"  shouts  Costigan. 
u  Heave  over  thim  rocks  !"  Down  with  a  crash  goes 
the  barricade.     A  cloud  of  steam  rushes  into  the  eave. 


236  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

A  dozen  sturdy  troopers  come  leaping  in,  lifting  from 
the  ground  the  helpless  and  bearing  them  to  the  blessed 
coolness  of  the  outer  air,  and  the  last  thing  Jim  Drum- 
mond  sees— ere  he  swoons  away — is  the  pale,  senseless 
face  of  little  Ruth  close  to  his  at  the  water's  brink ; 
her  father,  with  Fanny  clinging  about  his  neck,  kneel- 
ing by  her  side,  his  eyes  uplifted  in  thanks  to  the  God 
who  even  through  such  peril  and  distress  has  restored 
his  loved  ones,  unharmed,  unstained,  to  his  rejoicing 
heart 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  237 


XII. 

It  is  a  sultry  day,  early  in  July,  and  the  sun  is 
going  westward  through  a  fleet  of  white,  wind-driven 
clouds  that  send  a  host  of  deep  shadows  sweeping  and 
chafing  over  the  wide  prairie.  Northwards  the  view  is 
limited  by  a  low  range  of  bluffs,  destitute  of  tree  or 
foliage,  but  covered  thickly  with  the  summer  growth  of 
bunch-grass.  Southward,  three  miles  away  at  least, 
though  it  seems  much  less,  a  similar  range,  pierced  here 
and  th2re  with  deep  ravines,  frames  the  picture  on  that 
side.  Midway  between  the  two  ridges  and  fringed 
with  clumps  of  cottonwood  and  willow,  a  languid 
stream  flows  silently  eastward  and  is  lost,  with  the 
valley,  in  the  dim  distance.  Out  to  the  west  in  loner, 
gradual  curve  the  southward  range  veers  around  and 
spans  the  horizon.  Midway  across  this  monotone  of 
landscape,  cutting  the  stream  at  right  angles,  a  hard 
prairie  road  comes  twisting  and  turning  out  of  one  of 
the  southern  ravines  and,  after  long,  gradual  dip  to  the 
ford  among  the  cottonwoods,  emerges  from  their  leafy 
shade  and  goes  winding  away  until  lost  among  the 
"  breaks"  to  the  north.     It  is  one  of  the  routes  to  the 


238  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

Black  Hills  of  Dakota, — the  wagon  road  from  the 
Union  Pacific  at  Sidney  by  way  of  old  Fort  Robinson, 
Nebraska,  where  a  big  garrison  of  some  fourteen  com- 
panies of  cavalry  and  infantry  keep  watch  and  ward 
over  the  Sioux  Nation,  which,  one  year  previous,  was 
in  the  midst  of  the  maddest,  most  successful,  war  it 
ever  waged  against  the  white  man.  That  was  the 
Centennial  year — '76.  This  is  another  eventful  year 
for  the  cavalry, — '77  ;  for  before  the  close  of  the  sum- 
mer even  the  troops  so  far  to  the  southeast  are  destined 
to  be  summoned  to  the  chase  and  capture  of  wary  old 
Chief  Joseph, — the  greatest  Indian  general  ever  reared 
upon  the  Pacific  slope, — aud  even  now,  on  this  July 
day,  here  are  cavalrymen  at  their  accustomed  task,  and 
though  it  is  five  years  since  we  saw  them  under  the 
heat  and  glare  of  the  Arizona  sun,  there  are  familiar 
faces  among  these  that  greet  us. 

All  along  under  the  cottonwoods  below  the  crossing 
the  bivouac  extends.  Long  before  sunrise  these  hardy 
fellows  were  in  saddle  and,  in  long  column,  have  come 
marching  down  from  the  north, — four  strong  troops, — 
a  typical  battalion  of  regular  cavalry  as  they  looked 
and  rode  in  those  stirring  days  that  brought  about  the 
subjugation  of  the  Sioux.  Out  on  the  prairie  the  four 
herds  of  the  four  different  troops  are  quietly  grazing, 
each  herd  watched  by  its  trio  of  alert,  though  often 
apparently  dozing,  guards.     One  troop  is  made  up  en- 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  239 

tirely  of  black  horses,  another  of  sorrels, — two  are  of 
bays.  Another  herd  is  grazing  close  to  the  stream, — 
the  mules  of  the  wagon-train,  and  the  white  tops  of 
these  cumbrous  vehicles  are  dotting  the  left  bank  of 
the  winding  water  for  two  or  three  hundred  yards. 
Cook-fires  are  smouldering  in  little  pits  dug  in  the 
yielding  soil,  but  the  cooking  is  over  for  the  present ; 
the  men  have  had  their  substantial  dinner  and  are  now 
smoking  or  sleeping  or  chatting  in  groups  in  the  shade, 
— all  but  a  squad  of  a  dozen,  commanded  by  a  grizzled 
veteran  on  whose  worn  blouse  the  chevrons  of  a  first 
sergeant  are  stitched.  Booted  and  spurred,  with  car- 
bines slung  and  saddles  packed,  these  sun-tanned  fel- 
lows are  standing  or  sitting  at  ease,  holding  the  reins 
of  their  sleepy  chargers  and  waiting  apparently  for  the 
passengers  who  are  to  start  in  the  stout-built  "  Con- 
cord" drawn  by  four  sleek,  strong-looking  mules,  now 
standing  in  the  shade  near  the  canvas  homestead  of 
the  commanding  officer. 

Presently  two  soldiers  following  a  young  man  in 
civilian  dress  come  forward  lugging  a  little  green 
painted  iron  safe,  and  this,  with  a  swing  and  a  thud, 
they  deposit  in  the  wagon. 

"  You've  seen  that  before,  sergeant,"  laughs  the 
civilian. 

u  I  have,  begad,  an'  when  it  had  a  heap  more  green 
inside   an'  less   outside  than  it  has   now.     Faith,  I 


240  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

never  expected  to  see  it  again,  nor  the  paymaster  either. 
We  were  both  bored  through  and  through.  'Twas 
our  good  habits  that  saved  us.  Sure  your  predecessor 
was  a  game  fighter,  Mr.  Barnes,  if  he  was  a  ten- 
derfoot." 

"  Yes,  the  major  often  tells  me  he  wishes  he  had 
him  back,  and  me  in  the  place  he  has  instead  of  the 
one  he  had,"  answers  the  clerk,  whimsically.  "  Does 
he  know  you're  to  command  the  escort  in  ?  You  got 
him  into  such  a  scrape  then  that  he's  never  tired  of 
telling  of  it" 

"Then  he  may  feel  gratified  at  the  honor  I  am 
doing  him  now.  Sure  it's  beneath  the  dignity  of  a 
first  sergeant  to  command  a  squad  like  this  except  on 
extraordinary  occasion,  and  it's  to  take  the  taste  of 
the  last  time  out  of  his  mouth  I  volunteered  to  escort 
the  major  now.  'Twas  a  strong  taste  to  last  five  years, 
though  my  reminder  will  go  with  me  many  a  year 
longer.     Here  they  come  now." 

As  the  sergeant  speaks  a  little  group  of  officers 
issues  from  the  battalion  commander's  tent.  Foremost 
among  them,  in  loose  flapping  raiment  and  broad-' 
brimmed  hat  and  green  goggles,  the  rotund  and  portly 
shape  of  Major  Plummer,  the  paymaster. 

"Well,  old  man,"  says  the  cavalry  leader,  "you 
can  hardly  get  into  a  scrape  'twixt  here  and  Sidney. 
We've  seen  you  through  all  right  so  far ;  now  we'll  go 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  241 

on  about  our  scouting.     Your  old  fr-iend  Feeny  asked 
permission  to  see  you  safely  to  the  railway." 

"What,  Feeny?  and  a  first  sergeant  too?  I'm 
honored,  indeed  !  Well,  sergeant,"  he  adds,  catching 
sight  of  the  grizzled  red  face  under  the  old  scouting 
hat,  "  I'll  promise  to  let  you  run  the  machine  this 
time  and  not  interfere,  no  matter  what  stories  come  to 
us  of  beauty  in  distress.     All  ready  ?" 

"  All  ready,  sir,  if  the  major  is." 

"  He  wasn't  that  civil  to  me  in  Arizona,"  laughs  the 
paymaster,  as  he  turns  to  shake  hands  with  the  officers 
about  him. 

"  You  see  you  were  new  to  the  business  then,"  ex- 
plains a  tall  captain ;  "  Feeny  considers  you  a  war 
veteran  now,  after  your  experience  at  Moreno's.  Wfl 
all  had  to  serve  our  apprenticeship  as  suckling  lieu- 
tenants before  he  would  show  us  anything  but  a  sem- 
blance of  respect.  Good-by,  major ;  good  luck  to 
you." 

"Good-by  all.  Good-by,  Drummond.  Good-by, 
Wing. — Here !  I  must  shake  hands  with  you  two 
again."  And  shake  he  does ;  then  is  slowly  "  boosted" 
into  his  wagon,  where,  as  the  whip  cracks  and  the 
mules  plunge  at  their  collars  and  tilt  him  backward, 
the  major's  jolly  red  face  beams  on  all  around,  and  he 
waves  his  broad-brimmed  hat  in  exuberant  cordiality 
as  they  rattle  away. 

L       q  21 


242  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

The  group  of  officers  presently  disperses,  two  tall 
lieutenants  strolling  off  together  and  throwing  them- 
selves under  the  spreading  branches  of  a  big  cotton- 
wood.  One  of  them,  darker  and  somewhat  heavier 
built  now,  but  muscular,  active,  powerful,  is  Drum- 
mond  ;  the  other,  a  younger  man  by  a  brace  of  years, 
tall,  blue- eyed,  blonde-bearded,  wearing  on  his  scout- 
ing-blouse  the  straps  of  a  second  lieutenant,  is  our 
old  friend  Wing,  and  Wing  does  not  hesitate  in  pres- 
ence of  his  senior  officer — such  is  the  bond  of  friend- 
ship between  them — to  draw  from  his  breast-pocket  a 
letter  just  received  that  day  when  the  courier  met  them 
at  the  crossing  of  the  Dry  Fork,  and  to  lose  himself 
in  its  contents. 

"  All  well  with  the  madam  and  the  kid  ?"  queries 
Drummond,  after  the  manner  of  the  frontier,  when  at 
last  Wing  folds  and  replaces  his  letter,  a  happy  light 
in  his  brave  blue  eyes. 

"  All  well ;  Paquita  says  that  Harvey  has  captured 
the  entire  household,  and  that  Grandpa  Harvey  is 
his  abject  slave.  There  isn't  anything  in  Chicago 
too  good  for  that  two-year-old.  They've  had  them 
photo'd  together, — the  kid  on  his  grandfather's 
shoulder." 

"Aren't  you  afraid  his  Arizona  uncle  will  be 
jealous  for  his  own  boy's  sake?"  laughs  Drummond. 

"  I  don't  believe  Ned  would  begrudge  Fanny  any- 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  243 

thing  the  old  man  might  feel  for  her  or  for  here.  He 
is  generosity  itself  towards  his  sisters,  and  surely  I 
could  never  have  found  a  warmer  friend — out  of  the 
army.     You  know  how  he  stood  by  me." 

"I  know,  and  it  was  most  gratifying, — not  but 
that  I  feel  sure  you  would  have  won  without  his  aid. 
The  old  man  simply  couldn't  quite  be  reconciled  to 
her  marrying  in  the  army  and  living  in  Arizona." 

"A  strange  land  for  a  honey-moon  certainly, — yet 
where  and  when  was  there  a  happier?  Do  you  re- 
member how  the  Apaches  jumped  the  Verde  buck- 
board  the  very  week  after  we  were  married  ?" 

"  And  you  spent  half  of  the  honey-moon  scouting 
the  Tonto  Basin  ?  I  should  say  so !  What  with  a 
courtship  in  a  robbers'  cave,  a  marriage  in  a  cavalry 
camp,  and  a  wedding  tour  in  saddle,  you  had  a  unique 
experience,  Wing,  but — you  deserved  her."  And 
Drummond  turns  and  grips  his  comrade's  hand. 

Wing  is  silent  a  moment.  His  eyes  are  wistfully 
searching  the  elder's  half-averted  face. 

"  Jim,  you  told  me  awhile  ago  of  your  sister's  ap- 
proaching marriage.     Are  you  not  going  on  ?" 

"Yes.  It  will  be  early  in  October.  She's  bliss- 
fully happy  is  Puss,  and  he's  a  very  substantial,  solid 
sort  of  a  fellow.  I'm  well  content,  at  last,  that  her 
future  is  assured." 

"And  you  are  a  free  agent,  practically.      Isn't  it 


244  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

time  we  heard  of  your  own  happiness, — your  own 
vine  and  fig-tree,  old  man  ?" 

"  Time's  gone  by,  I  reckon,"  laughs  Drummond, 
yet  not  merrily.  "  I've  had  too  much  to  think  of, — • 
too  much  responsibility,  and  probably  have  lost  my 
chance." 

Wing  looks  as  though  he  wanted  mightily  to  say 
something,  but  conquers  his  impulse. 

"October  is  a  long  way  off,"  he  finally  remarks, 
"and  I  thought  you  might  find  earlier  opportunity 
of  going  East.  AJow  that  Ned  has  entire  charge  of 
the  business  in  Arizona  the  old  gentleman  takes  life 
easier.  The  winter  in  Cuba  did  him  a  lot  of  good, 
and  Fan  writes  that  he  seems  so  happy  now,  having 
his  two  girls  and  his  little  grandson  under  the  same 
roof  with  his  sister  and  her  children.  What  a  re- 
union after  all  these  years  !" 

"  Where  are  they  living  in  Chicago  ?" 

"You  would  know  better  than  I,  for — think  of 
it ! — I  have  never  been  east  of  the  Missouri  since  my 
babyhood,"  answers  Wing.  "Fan  writes  that  her 
aunt  has  a  lovely  house  on  what  they  call  the  North 
Side, — near  the  great  water-works  at  the  lake  front." 

"I  know  the  neighborhood  well,"  says  Drummond. 
"  Chicago  is  as  familiar  to  me  as  San  Francisco  was  to 
you.  Only — I  have  no  roof  to  call  my  own  anywhere, 
and  as  soon  as  Puss  is  married  shall  not  have  a  relative 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  245 

or  friend  on  earth  who  is  not  much  more  deeply  in- 
terested in  somebody  else."  And  the  senior  lieutenant 
is  lying  on  his  back  now,  blinking  up  at  the  rapidly 
scudding  clouds.  Presently  he  pulls  the  broad  brim 
of  his  campaign  hat  down  over  his  eyes.  "  What  do 
you  hear  from  your  mother,  Wing  ?" 

"  Nothing  new.  Bless  the  dear  old  lady !  You 
should  have  seen  her  happiness  in  Harvey.  She  could 
hardly  bear  to  let  the  little  fellow  out  of  her  arms, 
and  how  she  cried  and  clung  to  him  when  we  parted 
at  the  Oakland  wharf !  Poor  little  mother !  She 
has  never  given  up  the  hope  of  seeing  that  scapegrace 
of  an  uncle  of  mine  again." 

"  Has  she  ever  heard  how  he  tried  to  murder  his 
nephew?"  queries  Drummond,  grimly. 

"Never.  Nor  have  we  the  faintest  trace  of  him 
since  the  break  up  of  the  old  Morales  gang  at  Fronte- 
ras.  They  went  all  to  pieces  after  their  encounter 
with  you  and  '  C  troop.  What  a  chain  of  disasters  ! 
Lost  their  leaders  aud  three  of  their  best  men,  lost 
their  rendezvous  at  Moreno's,  lost  horses  and  mules, — 
for  what  our  men  didn't  get  the  Apaches  did, — and 
won  absolutely  nothing  except  the  twenty-four-hour 
possession  of  a  safe  they  hadn't  time  to  open.  Whereas 
I  got  my  commission  and  my  wife ;  Feeny,  honora- 
ble wounds  and  mention  and  the  chevrons  of  a  first 
sergeant;  Costigan  got  his  sergeant's  stripes  and  the 


246  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

medal  of  honor,  Murphy  his  sergeantcy,  "Walsh  and 
Latham  medals  and  corporalships ;  and  the  only 
fellow  who  didn't  get  a  blessed  thing  but  scars 
was  the  commanding  lieutenant, — your  worthy  self, — 
thanks  to  wiseacres  at  Washington  who  say  Indian 
fighting  isn't  war." 

"  Didn't  I  get  a  letter  of  thanks  from  the  depart- 
ment commander  ?"  grins  Drummond.  "  What  else 
could  I  expect  ?" 

"  What  else  ?"  is  Wing's  impulsive  rejoinder.  Then, 
as  though  mindful  of  some  admonition,  quieting  at 
once  and  speaking  in  tone  less  suggestive.  "  Well,  in 
your  case  I  suppose  you  can  be  content  with  nothing, 
but  bless  me  if  I  could."  Then,  suddenly  rising  and 
respectfully  touching  his  weather-beaten  hat,  he  salutes 
a  stoutly-built,  soldierly-looking  man  in  rough  scout- 
ing dress,  whose  only  badge  of  rank  is  the  tarnished 
shoulder-strap  with  the  silver  leaf  on  the  shabbiest 
old  fatigue-coat  to  be  found  in  the  battalion,  most  of 
whose  members,  however,  wear  no  coat  at  all. 

"  Hullo,  Wing  ! — didn't  mean  to  disturb  your  siesta, 
' — Drummond  here?"  says  the  commander  in  his  off- 
hand way,  and  at  sound  of  the  well-known  voice 
Drummond,  too,  is  on  his  feet  in  a  twinkling. 

"  Seen  the  papers  that  came  in  to-day  ?"  queries  the 
colonel,  obliterating  from  his  sentences  all  verbal 
superfluities. 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  247 

"  Not  yet,  sir ;  any  news  ?" 

"Hell  to  pay  in  Chicago,  so  far  as  heard  from. 
The  railway  strike  has  taken  firm  hold  there.  Police 
and  militia  both  seem  unable  to  do  anything  against 
the  mob,  and  the  authorities  are  stampeded.  Your 
home,  isn't  it  ?" 

"  It  was  once,  sir,  but  that  was  many  a  long  year  ago." 

"W-e-ell,"  says  the  colonel,  reflectively,  stroking 
his  grizzled  beard,  "  it's  my  belief  there  is  worse  to 
come.  It  isn't  the  striking  railway  hands  that  will 
do  the  mischief,  but  every  time  there's  a  strike  all  the 
thieves  and  thugs  and  blackguards  in  the  community 
turn  out.  That's  what  happened  in  Pittsburg, — that's 
what's  the  matter  in  Chicago.  It  looks  to  me  as 
though  the  plea  for  regular  troops  would  have  to  be 
granted." 

"  Think  we  can  get  there,  sir?"  asks  "Wing,  eagerly. 

"Can't  say.  We're  supposed  to  have  our  hands 
full  covering  this  section  of  Nebraska,  though  I 
haven't  heard  of  a  hostile  Sioux  this  summer.  Be- 
sides, they  have  full  regiments  of  infantry  at  Omaha 
and  along  the  lakes.  Doesn't  Mrs.  Wing  say  any- 
thing about  the  trouble  ?" 

"  Her  letter  is  four  days  old,  sir,  and  only  says  her 
father  looks  upon  the  situation  as  one  of  much  gravity ; 
but  women  rarely  see  troubles  of  this  kind  until  they 
come  to  their  doors." 


248  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

"Well,  this  is  the  Times  of  two  days  ago.  It 
reached  Sidney  at  breakfast-time  this  morning,  and 
Hatton  brought  two  or  three  copies  out  when  he  came 
with  the  mail.  I  thought  you  two  might  be  inter- 
ested." And  with  that  the  colonel  goes  strolling  along 
down  the  bank  of  the  stream,  pausing  here  and  there 
to  chat  with  some  officers  or  give  some  order  relative 
to  the  grazing  of  the  horses,— one  of  his  especial 
"fads." 

And  this  evening,  just  as  the  sun  disappears  over 
the  low  bluff  line  to  the  west  and  the  horses  are  being 
picketed  for  the  night,  while  from  a  score  of  cook-fires 
the  appetizing  savor  of  antelope- steak  and  the  aroma 
of  "  soldier  coffee"  rise  upon  the  air,  a  little  dust-cloud 
sweeps  out  from  the  ravine  into  which  disappears  the 
Sidney  road  and  comes  floating  out  across  the  prairie. 
Keen-eyed  troopers  quickly  note  the  speed  with  which 
it  travels  towards  them.  Officers  and  men,  who  have 
just  been  looking  to  the  security  of  their  steeds,  pause 
now  on  their  way  to  supper  and  stand  gazing  through 
the  gloaming  at  the  coming  cloud.  In  five  minutes 
the  cause  is  apparent, — two  swift  riders,  urging  their 
horses  to  full  speed,  racing  for  the  ford.  Five  min- 
utes more  and  the  foremost  throws  himself  from  sad- 
dle in  the  midst  of  the  group  at  the  colonel's  tent  and 
hands  that  officer  a  telegraphic  despatch,  which  is  re- 
ceived, opened,  read  with  imperturbable  gravity,  and 


FOES  JN  AMBUSH.  249 

pocketed.  To  the  manifest  chagrin  of  the  courier  and 
disappointment  of  his  officers,  the  colonel  simply  says, — 

"W-e-ell,  I'm  going  to  supper.  You  all'd  better 
have  yours  too." 

"  Why,  blame  his  old  hide  V  pants  the  courier  later, 
"  the  quartermaster  told  me  never  to  lose  a  second,  but 
git  that  to  him  before  dark.  The  hull  outfit's  ordered 
to  Chicago  by  special  train." 

And  so,  finding  the  secret  out,  the  colonel  presently 
puts  aside  professional  sang-froid  and  condescends  to 
be  human  again. 

"  Get  a  hearty  supper  all  round,  gentlemen,  then — 
'  boots  and  saddles'  and  away  for  Sidney  !" 

Two  days  later.  A  fierce  July  sun  is  pouring  down 
a  flood  of  humid,  moisture-laden  heat  upon  a  densely- 
packed,  sweltering  mass  of  turbulent  men,  many  of 
them  flushed  with  drink,  all  of  them  flushed  with 
triumph,  for  the  ill-armed,  ill-disciplined  militia  of  the 
seventies — a  pygmy  force  as  compared  with  the  expert 
"  Guardsmen"  of  to-day — has  been  scattered  to  the 
winds :  the  sturdy  police  have  been  swept  from  the 
streets  and  driven  to  the  shelter  of  the  stations.  Mob 
law  rules  supreme.  Dense  clouds  of  smoke  are  rising 
from  sacked  and  ruined  warehouses  and  from  long 
trains  of  burning  cars.  Here  and  there  little  groups  of 
striking  employes  have  gathered,  holding  aloof  from 
the  reckless  and  infuriated  mob,  appalled  at  the  sight  of 


250  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

riot  and  devastation  resulting  from  their  ill-advised  ac- 
tion. Many  of  their  number,  conscious  of  their  respon- 
sibility for  the  scenes  of  bloodshed  and  pillage  and 
wanton  destruction  of  property,  public  and  private, 
would  now  gladly  undo  their  work  and  array  them- 
selves among  the  few  defenders  of  the  great  corpora- 
tions they  have  served  for  years  and  deserted  at  the 
call  of  leaders  whom  they  never  saw  and  in  a  cause 
they  never  understood,  but  there  can  be  "  no  footsteps 
backward"  now.  The  tide  of  riot  has  engulfed  the 
great  city  of  the  West,  and  the  majesty  of  the  law  is 
but  the  laughing-stock  of  the  lowest  of  the  masses. 
Huddled  in  their  precinct  stations  the  police  are  band- 
aging their  bruised  and  broken  heads.  Rallied  at 
their  armories,  the  more  determined  of  the  militia  are 
preparing  to  defend  them  and  their  colors  against  the 
anticipated  attack  of  fifty  times  their  force  in  "  toughs," 
— Chicago's  vast  accumulation  of  outlawed,  vagabond, 
or  criminal  men.  The  city  fathers  are  well-nigh  hope- 
less. Merchants  and  business-men  gather  on  'Change 
with  blanched  faces  and  the  oft-repeated  query,  "  What 
next?  What  next?"  Every  moment  brings  tidings 
of  fresh  dismay.  New  fires,  and  a  crippled  and  help- 
less department,  for  the  rioters  slash  their  hose  and 
laugh  their  efforts  to  scorn.  A  gleam  of  hope  shone 
in  at  ten  o'clock,  and  the  Board-room  rang  with  cheers 
at  the  president's  announcement  that  the  regulars  were 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  251 

coming, — a  whole  regiment  of  infantry  from  Omaha 
was  already  more  than  half-way.  But  the  gleam  died 
out  at  noon  when,  with  white  lips,  an  official  read  the 
telegram  saying  the  strikers  had  "side-tracked"  the 
special  trains  bearing  the  soldiers  and  they  could  not 
advance  another  mile. 

And  so  they  had  on  one  road,  but  there  are  others, 
better  guarded,  better  run.  The  sun  is  well  over  to 
the  west  again,  Chicago  is  resigning  itself  to  another 
night  of  horror,  when  from  the  suburbs  there  comes 
gliding  in  to  the  heart  of  the  city  the  oddest-looking 
railway  train  that  has  been  seen  for  years :  a  sight  at 
which  a  host  of  riotous  men  break  away  from  the 
threatening  front,  dragging  with  them  those  "pals" 
whom  drink  has  either  maddened  or  stupefied  ;  a  sight 
at  which  skulking  blackguards  who  have  picked  up 
paving-stones  drop  them  into  the  gutters  and  think 
twice  before  they  lay  hand  on  their  revolver  butts.  No 
puffing  engine  hauls  the  train  :  the  motor-power  is  at 
the  rear.  First  and  foremost  is  a  platform  car, — open, 
uncovered,  but  over  its  buffer  glisten  the  barrels  of  the 
dreaded  Gatling  gun,  and  around  the  gun— can  these 
be  soldiers  ?  Covered  with  dust  and  cinders,  hardly  a 
vestige  of  uniform  among  them,  in  the  shabbiest  of  old 
felt  hats,  in  hunting-shirts  of  flannel  or  buckskin,  in 
scout-worn  trousers  and  Indian  leggings,  but  with  their 
prairie-belts    crammed    with  copper  cartridges,   their 


252  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

brawny  brown  hands  grasping  the  browner  carbine, 
their  keen  eyes  peering  straight  into  the  faces  of  the 
thronging  crowd,  their  bronze  features  set  and  stern, 
the  whole  car  fairly  bristles  with  men  who  have  fought 
tribe  after  tribe  of  savage  foes  from  the  Yellowstone  to 
the  Sonora  line,  and  who  hold  a  savage  mob  in  utter 
contempt.  Here  by  the  hub  of  the  Gatling's  wheel 
stands  old  Feeny,  close  at  the  elbow  of  dark -faced 
Drummond.  "C"  troop's  first  platoon  "mans"  the 
Gatling  gun,  and  under  its  old  leader  of  the  Arizona 
campaigns  "leads  the  procession"  into  the  "Garden 
City"  of  the  ante-bellum  days.  By  Drummond's  side  is 
a  railway  official  gazing  ahead  to  see  that  every  switch  is 
properly  set  and  signalling  back  to  the  engineer  when 
to  "slow,"  when  to  come  confidently  ahead.  Behind 
the  platform  car  come  ordinary  baggage  and  passenger 
coaches,  black  with  men  in  the  same  rough,  devil- 
may-care  scouting  rig.  All  but  their  horses  and  horse 
equipments  left  with  the  quartermaster  at  the  Sidney 
station,  the  battalion  has  been  run  to  Chicago  exactly 
as  it  came  from  the  plains,  and  Chicago's  "  toughs," 
who  would  have  hooted  and  jeered,  perhaps,  at  sight  of 
polished  brasses  and  natty  uniforms,  recoil  bewildered 
before  this  gang  of  silent  and  disciplined  "jayhawkers." 
Steadily,  silently,  ominously,  the  train  rolls  along. 
As  it  is  rounding  a  curve  several  ugly-looking  fellows 
are  seen  running  at  speed  towards  the  switch-lever  at 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  253 

the  next  street-crossing.  Excitedly  the  railway  man 
clutches  Drummond's  elbow  and  points.  Two  troopers 
are  kneeling  close  at  hand. 

"Shoot  if  they  touch  that  switch,"  says  Drummond, 
and  instantly  the  locks  click  as  the  hammers  are 
brought  to  full  cock.  The  foremost  runner  is  almost  at 
the  iron  stand ;  his  hand  is  outstretched  to  grasp  it  when 
a  gasping,  warning  cry  reaches  his  ears ;  glancing  back 
he  sees  his  fellows  scattering  to  either  side,  and  one 
look  at  the  smooth  rolling  car  reveals  the  cause :  two 
carbines  are  levelled  at  him,  and  flat  he  throws  himself 
on  his  face  and  rolls  to  one  side  amid  derisive  laughter 
from  the  strikers  themselves.  A  little  farther  on  a 
knot  of  surly  rioters  are  gathered  on  the  track.  No 
warning  whistle  sounds  and  the  clanging  bell  is  too 
far  to  the  rear  to  attract  their  attention.  "  Out  of  the 
way  there !"  is  the  blunt,  roughly-spoken  order.  No 
time  this  for  standing  on  ceremony.  Vengeful  and 
scowling  the  men  spring  aside,  some  stooping  to  pick 
up  rocks,  others  reaching  into  their  pockets  for  the 
ready  pistol ;  but  rocks  are  dropped  and  pistols  undrawn 
as  the  train  whirls  rapidly  by,  and  wrath  gives  place  to 
mystification.  Who — what  are  these  strange,  silent, 
stubbly-bearded,  sun-tanned  fellows  in  slouch  hats,  flan- 
nel shirts,  and  the  worn  old  black  belts  over  the  shoul- 
der ?  Even  the  engine  has  its  guard,  and  half  a  dozen 
of  them,  perched  upon  the  tender,  have  levelled  their 

22 


254  FOES  IN  AMBUSS. 

carbines  to  flank  and  rear,  ready  to  let  drive  into  the 
crowd  the  instant  a  brick  is  heaved  or  a  trigger  pulled. 

And  so  into  the  great  stone  station  they  roll,  and 
here  they  find  the  platforms  jammed  with  citizens,* — 
some  drawn  by  curiosity,  some  active  sympathizers  in 
the  strike,  and  many  of  them  prominent  leaders  of  the 
mob  surging  in  the  crowded  thoroughfare  without. 
The  train  has  hardly  come  to  a  stand  when  from  every 
direction  the  mass  of  outsiders  is  heaving  up  around  it. 

"  Now,  Feeny,  clear  the  platform  to  the  left. 
Take  the  other  side,  Wing,"  says  Drummond,  quietly, 
to  the  officer  at  the  front  door  of  the  next  car. 

In  the  very  fraction  of  a  second  the  first  sergeant  and 
a  dozen  men  have  leaped  from  the  deck,  and  straight 
into  the  heart  of  the  crowd  they  go.  "  Back  with  ye  ! 
Out  o'  this  !"  are  the  stern,  determined  orders,  empha- 
sized by  vigorous  prods  with  the  heavy  carbine  butts. 
Astonished  at  methods  so  prompt  and  decided,  there 
is  only  such  resistance  as  the  weight  and  bulk  of  those 
in  rear  can  oifer,  and  that  is  but  momentary.  The 
sight  of  those  gleaming  Gatling  barrels,  the  stern, 
brief  orders  and  the  rapid,  confident  advance  combine 
to  overcome  all  idea  of  resistance.  On  both  sides,  at 
the  head  of  the  train,  the  huge  crowd,  half  laugh- 
ing, half  suffocating,  is  heaved  back  upon  itself  and 
sent  like  a  great  human  wave  rolling  up  to  the  iron 
lattice  at  the  office  end.     Meantime,  without  an  in* 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  255 

stent's  delay  the  battalion  springs  out  from  the  cars, 
forms  ranks  on  the  north  platform,  counts  fours,  and 
then,  arms  at  right  shoulder,  away  it  goes  with  swing- 
ing, steady  tramp  around  the  rear  of  its  train,  across 
the  parallel  rows  of  rails,  and  in  another  moment, 
greeted  by  tremendous  cheers  from  the  occupants  of 
long  lines  and  high  tiers  of  stores,  offices,  business 
blocks,  the  grimy,  dusty,  war-worn  campaigners  come 
striding  down  the  crowded  street.  Heavens  !  how  the 
people  shout!  Staid  old  burghers,  portly  business- 
men, trot  panting  alongside  waving  their  hats  and 
cheering  themselves  hoarse.  "  Them  fellers  hasn't  no 
6oquets  in  their  guns,"  is  the  way  a  street  gamin 
expresses  it. 

"  Whither  are  they  going  ?" — "  "What  have  they 
first  to  do  ?"  is  the  cry.  Police  officials  ride  now  with 
the  captain  temporarily  in  command  :  a  carriage  has 
whisked  the  colonel  over  to  head-quarters,  but  haste ! 
haste !  is  the  word.  On  they  go,  silent,  grim,  with 
the  alkali  dust  of  the  North  Platte  crossing  still  coat- 
ing their  rusty  garb.  A  great  swing  bridge  looms 
ahead  :  a  dozen  police  deploy  on  either  side  and  check 
the  attendiug  crowd.  Over  they  go  at  route  step,  and 
then,  turning  to  the  right,  tramp  on  down  a  roughly- 
paved  street,  growing  dim  and  dimmer  every  minute 
with  stifling  smoke.  Presently  they  are  crossing  snake- 
like lines  of  hose,  gashed  and  useless ;   passing  fire 


256  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

apparatus  standing  unhitched  and  neglected  ;  passing 
firemen  exhausted  and  listless.  Then  occasional  squads 
of  scowling  men  give  way  before  their  steady  tramp 
and  are  driven  down  alley-ways  and  around  street- 
corners  by  reviving  police.  Then  the  head  of  column 
turns  to  the  left  and  comes  full  upon  a  scene  of  tumult, 
— a  great  building  in  flames,  a  great  mob  surging 
about  it  defying  police  interference  and  bent  apparently 
on  gutting  the  structure  from  roof  to  cellar  and  pil- 
laging the  neighboring  stores.  Now,  men  of  the  — th, 
here's  work  cut  out  for  you  !  Drive  that  mob  !  blood- 
lessly  if  you  can,  bloodletting  if  you  must ! 

The  colonel  is  again  at  the  head.  All  are  on  foot. 
"  Left  front  into  line,  double  time ;"  the  first  company 
throws  its  long  double  rank  from  curb  to  curb, 
Drummond,  its  commander,  striding  at  its  front; 
Wing,  his  subaltern,  anxiously  watching  him  from 
among  the  file-closers.  Already  they  have  reached 
the  rearmost  of  the  rioting  groups  and,  with  warning 
cries  and  imprecations,  these  are  scurrying  to  either 
side  and  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  accompanying 
police.  Thicker,  denser  grows  the  smoke;  thicker, 
denser  the  mob. 

"  Clear  this  street !  Out  of  the  way  !"  are  the 
orders,  and  for  a  half-block  or  so  clear  it  is.  Then 
comes  the  first  opposition.  On  a  pile  of  lumber  a  tall, 
stalwart  man  in  grizzled  beard  and  slouching  hat — • 


FOES  JN  AMBUSH.  257 

evidently  a  leader  of  mark  among  the  mob — is  shout- 
ing orders  and  encouragement.  What  he  says  cannot 
be  heard,  but  now,  tightly  wedged  between  the  rows 
of  buildings,  the  mob  is  at  bay,  and,  yelling  mad  re- 
sponse to  the  frantic  appeals  and  gesticulations  of  their 
leader,  at  least  two  thousand  reckless  and  infuriated 
men  have  faced  the  little  battalion  surging  steadily  up 
the  narrow  street. 

"You  may  have  to  fire,  Drummond,"  says  the 
colonel,  coolly.  "  Get  in  rear  of  your  company." 
Obedient,  the  tall  lieutenant  turns  and  follows  his 
chief  along  the  front  of  his  advancing  line  so  as  to 
pass  around  the  flank.  He  is  not  fifty  paces  from  the 
pile  on  which  the  mob  leader,  with  half  a  dozen  half- 
drunken  satellites,  is  shouting  his  exhortations.  Just  as 
the  lieutenant's  arm  is  grazing  grim  old  Feeny's  elbow 
as  he  passes  the  first  sergeant's  station  a  brick  comes 
hurtling  through  the  air,  strikes  full  upon  the  back  of 
the  officer's  unprotected  head,  and  sends  him,  face  for- 
ward, into  the  muddy  street.  In  the  yell  of  triumph 
that  follows,  Wing's  voice  for  an  instant  is  unheard. 
Obedient  to  its  principle,  "  Never  load  until  about  to 
fire,"  the  battalion's  carbines  are  still  empty,  but  all  on 
a  sudden  "  C"  troop  halts.  "  With  ball  cartridges 
load!"  is  Wing's  hoarse,  stern  order.  "Now  aim 
low  when  I  give  the  word.  Fire  by  company.  Com- 
pany, ready  !"  and,  like  one,  the  hammers  click, 
r  22* 


258  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

But  no  command  "  Aim"  follows.  "  Look  out !  Look 
out ! — For  God's  sake  don't  fire !  Out  of  the  way  !" 
are  the  frantic  yells  from  the  throats  of  the  mob. 
Away  they  go.  Scattering  down  side  streets,  alley- 
ways, behind  lumber-piles,  everywhere — anywhere. 
Many  even  throw  themselves  flat  on  their  faces  to 
escape  the  expected  tempest  of  lead.  "Don't  fire," 
says  the  colonel,  mercifully.  "  Forward,  double  time, 
and  give  them  the  butt.  We'll  support  you."  Down 
from  the  lumber-piles  come  the  erstwhile  truculent 
leaders.  "  Draw  cartridge,  men,"  orders  Wing  in  wrath 
and  disappointment.  "Now,  butts  to  the  front,  and 
give  them  hell.  Forward  /"  And  out  he  leaps  to  take 
the  lead,  dashing  straight  into  the  thick  of  the  scatter- 
ing mob,  his  men  after  him.  There  is  a  minute  of 
wild  yelling,  cursing,  of  resounding  blows  and  tram- 
pling feet,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  all  a  single  shot,  and 
when  Wing,  breathless,  is  finally  halted  two  squares 
farther  on,  only  a  dozen  broken-headed  wretches  re- 
main along  the  street  to  represent  the  furious  mob  that 
confronted  them  a  few  minutes  before.  Only  these 
few  and  one  writhing,  bleeding  form,  around  which 
half  a  dozen  policemen  are  curiously  gathered,  and  at 
whose  side  the  battalion  surgeon  has  just  knelt. 

"He's  shot  through  and  through,"  is  his  verdict, 
presently.     " No  power  can  save  him.     Who  is  he?" 

"  About  the  worst  and   most  dangerous  ringleader 


FOES  IN  AA3BUSH.  259 

of  riot  this  town  lias  known,  sir,"  is  the  answer  of  one 
of  the  police  officials.  "  No  one  knew  where  he  came 
from  either— or  his  real  name." 

And  then  in  his  dying  agony  the  fallen  demagogue 
turns,  and  the  other  side  of  his  twitching  face  comes 
uppermost.  Even  through  the  thin,  grizzly  beard 
there  is  plainly  seen  an  ugly,  jagged  scar  stretching 
from  ear  to  chin. 

"  This  isn't  his  first  row  by  any  manner  of  means, 
if  it  is  his  last,"  says  a  sergeant  of  police.  "Look  at 
that !     Who  shot  him,  anyhow  ?" 

"  I  did,"  is  the  cool,  prompt  answer,  and  Sergeant 
Feeny  raises  his  hand  to  his  carried  carbine  and  stands 
attention  as  he  sees  the  surgeon  kneeling  there.  "I 
did,  and  just  in  the  nick  of  time.  He  had  drawn  a 
bead  on  our  lieutenant ;  but  even  if  he  hadn't  I'd  have 
downed  him,  and  so  would  any  man  in  that  company 
yonder."  And  Feeny  points  to  where  "  C"  troop  stands 
resting  after  its  charge. 

"  You  knew  him,  then  ?" 

"Knew  him  instantly,  as  a  deserter,  thafe,  highway- 
man, and  murderer, — knew  him  as  Private  Bland  in 
Arizona,  and  would  know  him  anywhere  by  that  scar." 

A  policeman  bends  and  wrenches  a  loaded  revolver 
from  the  clutching,  quivering  fingers  just  as  Wing 
comes  striding  back  and  shoulders  a  way  into  the 
group. 


260  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

"Is  he  badly  hurt,  doctor?  That  was  an  awful 
whack." 

"  It  isn't  the  lieutenant,  sir,"  says  Feeny,  respect- 
fully, but  with  strange  significance  in  his  tone  as  he 
draws  a  policeman  aside.     "  Look  !" 

And  Wing,  bending  over,  gives  one  glance  into  the 
dying  face,  then  covers  his  eyes  with  his  hands  and 
turns  blindly,  dizzily,  away. 

That  evening  a  host  of  citizens  are  gathered  about 
the  bivouac  of  the  battalion  at  the  water-works  while 
the  trumpets  are  sounding  tattoo.  A  few  squares 
away  the  familiar  notes  come  floating  in  through  the 
open  windows  of  a  room  where  Jim  Drummond  is 
lying  on  a  most  comfortable  sofa,  which  has  been  rolled 
close  to  the  casement,  where  every  whiff  of  the  cool 
lake  breeze  can  fan  his  face,  and  where,  glancing 
languidly  around,  he  contrasts  the  luxury  of  these 
surroundings  with  the  rude  simplicity  of  the  life  he 
has  lived  and  loved  so  many  years.  Gray-haired 
George  Harvey,  kindly  Mrs.  Stone,  his  sister,  blissful, 
beautiful  Fanny  Wing  with  burly  baby  Harvey  in 
her  arms  and  her  proud,  soldierly  husband  by  her  side, 
and  a  tall,  lovely,  silent  girl  have  all  been  there  to 
minister  to  his  needs  and  bid  him  thrice  welcome  and 
make  him  feel  that  here,  if  anywhere  on  earth,  he  is 
at  home.  And  here  the  battalion  surgeon  and  the 
family  physician  unite  in  declaring  he  must  remain 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  261 

until  released  by  their  order,  and  here  for  three  days 
and  nights  he  is  nursed  and  petted  and  made  so  much 
of  that  he  is  unable  to  recognize  himself,  and  here 
sister  Puss  comes  to  cry  over  and  kiss  and  bless  him 
and,  in  her  turn,  to  be  made  much  of  and  forbidden 
to  leave,  and  then,  after  her  big  brother's  return  to 
duty  with  the  battalion,  now  being  fed  and  feted  by 
all  the  North  Side,  he  must  needs  come  over  every 
evening  to  see  her ;  and,  now  that  presentable  uniforms 
have  arrived  and  the  rough  beards  have  been  shaved 
and  the  men  of  the  old  regiment  look  less  like 
"  toughs,"  but  no  more  like  American  soldiers  as  our 
soldiers  look  in  the  field  of  their  sternest  service,  her 
sisterly  pride  in  her  big  brother  is  beautiful  to  see, — 
so  is  her  self-abnegation,  for,  somehow  or  other,  though 
he  comes  to  see  her  he  stays  to  look  at  Ruth  Harvey, 
shy,  silent,  and  beautiful,  and  soon,  as  though  by 
common  consent,  that  corner  of  the  big  parlor  is  given 
up  to  those  two,  the  tall,  stalwart  trooper  and  the 
slender,  willowy  girl.  And  one  evening  he  comes 
earlier  than  usual  in  manifest  discomposure,  and  soon 
it  transpires  that  important  orders  have  reached  him. 
Fanny  turns  pale.  "  Are  you — all — ordered  back  ?" 
she  cries,  and  is  for  an  instant  radiant  at  his  assurance 
that  the  order  involves  only  himself.  He  is  called  to 
department  head-quarters  to  report  in  person  to  the 
general  commanding,  who   is  about  to  make  a  tour 


262  FOES  IN  AMBUSH. 

through  the  mountains  in  Northwestern  Wyoming  and 
wants  Drummond  with  the  escort.  She  is  radiant 
only  until  she  catches  sight  of  her  sister's  face.  It  is 
not  so  very  warm  an  evening,  yet  she  marshals  the 
household  out  on  the  steps,  out  on  the  back  veranda, 
— anywhere  out  of  that  parlor,  where,  just  as  the  faint 
notes  of  the  trumpets  are  heard,  sounding  their  martial 
"  tattoo,"  and  just  as  Lieutenant  Wing,  returning 
from  a  tiptoed  visit  to  his  sleeping  boy  and  escaped 
for  the  moment  from  the  vigilance  of  his  wife,  now 
happens  to  go  blundering  in, — there  is  heard  from  the 
dimly-lighted  corner  near  the  piano  the  sound  of  sub- 
dued sobbing,  the  sound  of  a  deep,  manly  voice,  low, 
soothing,  wondrously  happy,  the  sound — a  sound — in- 
describable in  appropriate  English,  yet  never  misunder- 
stood,— a  sound  at  which  Wing  halts  short,  pauses 
one  instant  irresolute ;  then  faces  about  and  goes  tip- 
toeing out  into  the  brilliant  sheen  of  the  vestibule 
lamps, — into  the  brilliant  gleam  of  his  fond  wife's 
questioning,  reproachful  eyes. 

And  for  all  answer,  it  being  perhaps  too  public  a 
spot  for  other  demonstration,  Wing  simply  hugs  him- 
self. 

That  night,  under  the  arching  roof  of  the  great 
railway  station,  the  comrades,  so  long  united  by  the 
ties  of  such  respect  and  affection  as  are  engendered 
only  by  years  of  danger  and  hardship  borne  in  com- 


FOES  IN  AMBUSH.  263 

mon,  and  now  so  happily  united  by  a  closer  tie,  are 
pacing  the  platform  absorbed  in  parting  words. 

"  Jim,  think  what  a  load  I've  had  to  carry  all  these 
five  years  and  forbidden  by  my  good  angel  to  breathe 
a  word  of  it  to  you." 

"I  can't  realize  my  own  happiness,  old  man.  I 
never  dreamed  that,  after  she  got  out  into  the  world 
and  saw  for  herself,  that  she  would  remember  her 
girlish  fancy  or  have  another  thought  for  me." 

"  I  know  you  didn't.  Yet  Fan  says  that  ever  since 
the  voyage  in  the  '  Newborn*  little  Ruth  has  never  had 
a  thought  for  anybody  else." 

There  is  a  moment's  silence,  then  Wing  speaks 
again  : 

"There  has  not  been  time  for  mother's  letter  to 
reach  me.  I  had  to  write,  of  course,  and  tell  her  of 
the  fate  that  at  last  befell  him.  Do  you  know  I  feel 
as  though  after  all  it  was  my  hand  that  did  it." 

"How  so?" 

"  Feeuy  says  he  knew  him  the  instant  that  side  of 
his  face  was  turned  towards  him, — the  side  my  knife 
laid  open  years  ago.     That  was  a  fatal  scar." 


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